


The Odds Are...

by China_Rose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s01e22 Devil's Trap, Family Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rape, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 164,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/China_Rose/pseuds/China_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a post Devil’s Trap story. It’s about the Winchesters and what happens when one of them is hurt and how all three cope with the fallout. It is a story of pain and despair, of hope and love. The Winchesters have known tough times in the past but Dean’s situation is the ultimate test of their bond to each other. The question is can they make a future out of such a troubled and bitter past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

  
Banner by Thok Jr 

**Title:** The Odds Are…  
 **Author:** China Rose 

**Pairings:** None. Mention of Demon John/Dean  
 **Chapter:** Part 1  
 **Word Count:** 80947

 **Formats:** **PDF** link for [**The Odds Are...**](https://www.dropbox.com/s/r4yyuyrol8cx9j6/The%20Odds%20Are...%20Complete%20Story.pdf) and **Word** link for [**The Odds Are...**](https://www.dropbox.com/s/c0nn96sp8kssgqe/The%20Odds%20Are...%20Complete%20Story.docx)

 **A/N 1:** I am not a medical expert. While I have worked in the medical field and I did research the injuries and complications mentioned in the various chapters to create an air of reality, please remember that this is a story, a piece of fiction and enjoy it for what it is.  
 **A/N 2:** Italics are thoughts and sometimes they are used for emphasis. At this archive I am unable to show color fonts but normally Blue italics are police radio transmissions and Red italics are fire brigade transmissions. Hopefully, despite having only black font available, you will still be able to tell the difference.  
 **A/N 3:** The statistics quoted are real. They are taken from numerous studies and are specific to the USA. Whether you agree or not with them is not really important; they are here to simply highlight Dean’s plight and John’s life and to show just what they were up against. So please accept the statistics as part of the story and don’t get bogged down by the validity of them because as we all know there are many studies out there and I have simply used a sample.  
 **A/N 4:** The acronym FUBAR means ‘fucked up beyond all repair.’  
 **A/N 5:** Charlie Sierra Fubar the Fireman Bear who first appears in Chapter 7 was inspired by this pic   
**A/N 6:** All Souls day is celebrated on 2 November and is the day for the commemoration of the departed. It is steeped in rituals that predate the Christian calendar and has its roots in pagan times but is still celebrated in many Christian churches today. Also I have often wondered what the significance is of both Mary and Jess dying on that day. It may be a coincidence but then Eric Kripke doesn’t strike me as a man who let’s much by him. My guess is it ties into the Supernatural mythology somewhere, somehow and maybe one day we will find out…or not.  
 **A/N: 7** The Police radio codes and emergency service definitions are at the bottom of Chapters 9 and 10. There are minor variations on codes throughout the various USA police forces so I used one which closely resembles one of the Missouri forces. The police in this story use the tens code and the hospital security team are using a more relaxed V system for identification of security personnel; a system I used when working in security some time ago.  
 **A/N 8:** Below are the photographs John had in his wallet as seen in Chapter 9:-

**A/N 9:** Mule Kick (mentioned in Chapter 11) is a Missouri brewed beer.

 **A/N 10:** The facemask the fireman wears in Chapter 11 is called the Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus (SCBA) and is both a facemask and air cylinder which lets the fireman breathe in hazardous situations. 

 

 **A/N 11:** The quote “your worst nightmare is just another day at the office” in Chapter 12 is specifically about firemen and the author is unknown. The word pissed is used in this chapter, to some it may mean drunk but in this context it means angry just in case there was any confusion.  
 **A/N 12:** I am not an expert in how fires start but I do know a little about fire behavior and as I have a number of sons who are fireman I asked their advice on the subject. For the purpose of Chapter 14 the fire began the way I have explained. Whether that could happen in real life *shrug* who knows but in this universe it did. So please accept it for the fiction it is and see where it takes you.  
 **A/N 13:** In Chapters 16 and 21 John performs an exorcism. However the Latin quoted is not from an exorcism ritual. A translation for the Latin used and where it is from is located at the bottom of the chapter.  
 **A/N 14:** The quote at the end of the Chapter 18 is by Anonymous, although variations of it by numerous people can be found in many places.  
 **A/N 15:** In Chapter 29 there is mention of Sheldon Cooper. Sheldon is a fictional theoretical physicist from The Big Bang Theory and Indiana Jones is the fictional whipping cracking, get the job done at all costs, archeologist from the Indiana Jones movies.  
 **A/N 16:** Stormin’ Norman, mentioned in Chapter 31, is the nickname for General Norman Schwarzkopf, a United States Army General who was commander of the Coalition Forces in the 1991 Gulf War. He was credited with bringing the ground war to a swift end, hence the nickname ‘Stormin’ Norman’.  
 **A/N 17:** R&R means rest and recuperation. A Catch 22 is a paradoxical situation where trying to solve one part of a problem actually creates another problem, which then leads back to the original problem. In other words it’s a no-win situation. The term is from the 1953 novel Catch 22 by Joseph Heller.

 **A/N 18:** John’s Apron   
**A/N 19:** My Three Sons (1960-1972), was an American sitcom about a widowed dad who was raising his three sons with the help of their great uncle Charley, who was also their live-in housekeeper.

 

 **Annexes:** Located after the Epilogue  
1\. Dean’s Cards and Photographs  
2\. Map and Table of Dean’s Journey  
3\. Timeline  
4\. List of Characters  
5\. John’s Journal Entries  
6\. List of Chapter Summary Quotes

 

 **Beta:** I just wanted to acknowledge all the people who have contributed to this story over the years. You have all been amazing and each of you has shaped this story in some way.

Special thanks to Thoks and Thok Jr who have consistently and enthusiastically helped me with this story from editing to bouncing ideas around. You both have been so generous with your time, ideas and insights. Little did any of us realize that we would be working on this for almost seven years, so well done your efforts paid off.

My sincere thanks go to the following people for their contribution:  
• Anne Higgins who gave me some great advice about writing and posting stories.  
• Marie72 for her invaluable medical expertise  
• Schmadoodle and Chosimba. Both are firefighters and paramedics and have worked in emergency services for years, so their understanding of the emergency codes used here were invaluable.  
• Kuhekabir who so quickly answered my call for help and so expertly edited Chapter 20 and 22. Editing can be tedious but you happily helped out when I needed it. 

Thank you all so much.

 **Comments and Reviews:** Always welcome  
 **Disclaimer:** This story is a work of fiction. It is from my imagination and is in no way meant to harm any person or persons. I have made no money from this; I just wanted to write a story.

*****************************************

 **Chapter 1** \- _In the darkest hour the soul is replenished and given strength to continue and endure._

“Mr. Winchester did you sleep at all?” Dr. Jessop asked as he hurried into the room. 

Dr. Jessop was Dean’s primary doctor and as usual he began his visit by flicking through Dean’s chart. John knew the man didn’t really expect an answer so he didn’t bother explaining that he had forgone sleep to sit with his eldest son, protecting him from anything that might harm him. Heaven knows enough already had. 

The only sounds in the room were the beeps and pings of heart monitors, medication dispensers and the ventilator. John was frustrated and bone weary and he didn’t know how to make it all right for Dean. The enemy they fought now was something John had little experience with. He rubbed a hand over his face and prayed that today someone would give him a better idea of what he and his boys were up against.

“No change I see in his condition overnight, that’s not good but not bad either.” Dr Jessop muttered as he checked the machines and tubes and medications. “Now when was the accident?”

John wasn’t an emotional man; he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. To many people, even his sons, he came across as a hard man but he adored his boys and like any caring father he was devastated when one of them was sick or injured even if he didn’t show it outwardly. Their pain was his pain. Right now he was as frustrated as hell because every day for the last five days the doctors had assessed Dean’s status without actually stopping to look at him or so it appeared to John. The medical chart the staff read and gadgetry that was attached to Dean only told half the story but Dean was right there broken and bruised and barely holding on to life. These people had no idea what his son had endured but then maybe that’s a good thing. They only saw the end result. John knew the cause of these horrific injuries and that he was part of that nightmare was breaking his heart.

Sometimes he just felt like screaming at them, _just look at him. He’s a person, he had a life and he is barely hanging on to it now. Tell me where we all stand and what we need to do to help Dean. Don’t quote the facts and figures at me. I already know them. Don’t tell me how little chance he has of surviving, because if he has a four in five chance of dying I will tell you he also has a one in five chance of living. God give the kid a chance. Tell me he at least has a chance. Give my family something to cling too, some hope that he will survive this._

Instead though John just sighed and repeated yet again, “The accident was five days ago.”

“Five days, hmm? Well Mr. Winchester I’ll be frank, the patient…”

From what he had seem over the preceding days John knew that Dr Jessop didn’t want to know his patients as real people; he didn’t want to become emotionally connected to them. John felt instead that the man saw them as statistics for his annual reports. They became patient number whatever and they were known for their injuries or conditions or diseases but they didn’t have names. 

John wanted, no needed, Dr Jessop to see his son as someone other than “the patient” and was determined to challenge the man every time he failed to acknowledge Dean as an actual, breathing, albeit cling to life by a thread, human being.

“Dean. His name is Dean,” snapped John.

“Right Dean,” the doctor looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I think it’s time we take stock of Dean’s condition. As you well know Dean suffered severe injuries both prior to and in the crash. He lost an inordinate amount of blood and that alone could kill him. The hemorrhaging contributed to his coma as did the severe concussion when the vehicle was hit by a…” he flipped the chart hoping to find exactly what hit the vehicle.

“A truck! A big out of control demon driven truck!” John could barely control his anger but inwardly laughed that for once he was telling the truth and no-one realized it.

Dr Jessop looked at John, mouth open and eyebrows arched, ready to comment on John’s attitude and tone. However one look at the man obviously was enough to warn him to refrain from whatever stupid remark he intended to say.

“Yes a truck,” he agreed and was about to continue when Sam entered the room.

“Hi Dad got you a coffee and breakfast,” he almost whispered as he approached Dean’s bed not noticing the Doctor because his attention was so focused on Dean. 

“Hey big brother, how you doing today?” He tenderly patted Dean’s head but all the while his eyes assessed his brother looking for, hoping for some improvement.

“Sam Dr. Jessop was just about to tell us how well Dean is doing,” he couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice and he glared at the doctor daring the man to challenge him.

Sam turned around surprised that he hadn’t noticed the doctor at all, “Oh hi Dr Jessop; good to see you. How’s Dean?” Sam needed hope but he doubted the doctor would give them any.

“As I was just explaining to your father, Dean,” he almost stumbled over the name. “Dean has extensive life threatening injuries. Currently he is in a coma and on a ventilator.” 

_Like we couldn’t work that one out by ourselves,_ thought Sam as he glanced at John frustration coloring his face. 

“If his oxygen levels increase and he shows signs of waking we will extubate him but until then he stays as he is. He was severely concussed during the crash and I daresay from the attack by the driver and this contributed to his current comatose state. With any head injury there are always risks and we are monitoring for subdural hematoma. At this stage though, all seems well on that front.”

“Then why doesn’t he wake up?” Sam couldn’t quite understand what the problem was. If there was no whatever it was the doctor just said and it had been five days then surely Dean should be awake…made sense to him.

In the short time he had known them Dr Jessop always felt challenged by this family and part of him was pleased that at least one of them couldn’t talk at all. “Well let’s see, your brother suffered a life threatening blood loss, he was raped causing internal injuries and he has a severe concussion, was in a car crash and was beaten and he almost bled death from other internal injuries. All things considered I’m surprised he is actually alive, the fact that he isn’t awake is not necessarily a bad thing. The body needs to heal and by shutting down Dean is doing just that.” 

“So will he wake?” Sam wasn’t letting the man off the hook that easily.

Dr Jessop looked at the young man and wished not for the first time he could offer something a little more promising. “We hope so but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t.” 

Sam gasped and John held Dean’s hand tightly. Up until this point no-one had said the odds were decidedly not in Dean’s favor. It was just inconceivable that Dean might die especially after everything that had happened. It just seemed so unfair.

“Look he has suffered severe trauma. If he does wake he will have a considerable period of rehabilitation before he even gets a fraction of his old self back. Life may not be the way it was for him both physically and emotionally. He has endured a lot and statistically I would say he is more likely to die of heart failure because of his injuries but we are doing everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. Look the facts are simple Dean is in a precarious health situation right now.”

Father and son nodded trying to take it all in.

“Everything is stacked against him. For instance did you know that 43% of all vehicle accidents involve another vehicle, like yours did, so the combined speed of the vehicles is cumulative therefore making the impact injuries worse? You only have to look at Dean’s injuries from the accident to see the proof of that fact. 50% of accidents involve drivers under the influence of drugs or alcohol and I believe the other driver in your accident was high on something other than life. 42% of victims die from hemorrhage at the scene or in the emergency room but prompt emergency care does saves many lives except and you fit this category when the accident occurs in a rural area which sadly 62% of them do. 50% occur at night and if the emergency teams are heading to a rural area they are not only handicapped by distance but by actually trying to find the scene of the accident in the dark, it makes for slow progress sometimes and delays cost lives. Any delay in treatment puts the victim at risk and so here we have Dean who was bleeding out while rescue teams raced to find you on a rural road in the dark and let’s face it he was already in a compromised health position before he got in the car. My point is this Dean doesn’t have a lot going for him and quite frankly I’m surprised that after five days he is still here. If you go by the stats he should have died before the EMTs even arrived at the scene. While we will do everything we can the odds are not in his favor. I’m sorry I wish I could be more positive but that’s the situation at the moment but if it’s any consolation we won’t give up on him okay.” 

Sam looked distraught but John was defiant. “He’s beaten the odds before; my money is on Dean.”

“I hope you’re right Mr. Winchester. Now about the rape…”

John’s stomach plummeted. He so did not want to discuss this at all.

“…we were unable to find any DNA to assist forensics and they have spoken to you both about what might have happened to Dean haven’t they?” 

Both men nodded but refrained for engaging in any further discussion.

“It was a violent rape, rare but it does happen and it caused a lot of tearing and excessive bleeding internally. If Dean wakes from his coma he will need rape counseling to cope with the aftermath of the attack. It is an established fact that more women than men are raped and fewer men than women report rape. The dent to the male psyche is often too great and men tend to pretend it never happened. Dean never had a choice on hiding this as his injuries were too extensive. So in the light of what else happened that night your son has a lot to deal with when he wakes up.”

 _You have no idea!_ Thought John sadly as he held Dean’s hand, _and I have no idea how to make things right._

“You all do to some extent,” Dr Jessop continued. “Finding your son and brother raped is a family issue.” 

“Never a truer thing was said,” John muttered under his breath.

Sam glared at his father.

“You all were injured to some degree that night and like Dean there will be emotional scars. Physically we can fix you but the rest is up to you. Now about your own injuries; while you have been discharged I would like to remind you both to rest. You are no help to Dean if you collapse in a heap. Mr. Winchester your leg is healing nicely and that broken arm will need at least 5 more weeks in that cast. You also had a concussion which means Sir you should rest. I know its five days since the accident but considering what has happened I can’t overstate the importance of rest to a speedy recovery. And you,” he pointed to Sam but seemed to pause trying to remember the younger man’s name.

“Sam,” prompted the younger Winchester.

“Sam…you were the driver right?” he asked still not a hundred percent with the details of the crash. He just never seemed to remember the details without prompting. Dr “Not Retained Knowledge” obviously hated this part of his morning rounds because they had done this same thing three days in a row now and he still stumbled over the same facts. 

“As you were furthest from the point of impact your injuries were minor compared to the rest of the family. You had a concussion but as long as you don’t overdo it you should be fine in another day or two. Any headaches or blurred vision tell us immediately but I am not anticipating any problems. I would say luck was on your side that night. Of course you have numerous cuts and bruises from shattered glass and your chest and ribs are bruised from the steering wheel and the fight you were in after the crash.” He added as if Sam needed to be reminded of that incident.

John smiled slightly surprised, _well once he got a roll on the doc remembered most of the details; still their story was somewhat unique you’d think it would be imprinted on his brain._

“I know you were trying to help your brother but maybe next time call the police and then you don’t become a victim yourself, though I hear that driver was fairly crazed so good job young man.”

The doctor was referring to the cover story they gave the police regarding Deans’ rape, Sam’s confrontation with the truck driver and John being shot in the leg. They did pretty well John thought in view of what really happened. He was impressed with how Sam handled the whole situation considering what they had all gone through just a few hours before the crash. When Sam relayed the story to him, to ensure they had their story straight John smiled. He had trained his boys well, they could lie through their eye teeth and never miss a beat and this was one time John was definitely pleased that Sam knew how to cover their tracks.

So their story was told by Sam to the police, the EMTs, the nurses and the doctors. He was a believable witness and made a great victim. They loved him. The story as Sam told it went like this:

_Well my Dad, my brother and me were at this bar in a town not far from here and Dean left to get his jacket from the car. When he didn’t return I went to find him. You know officer it was just a jacket so he should have been back quickly. I mean it doesn’t take forever to get your jacket right? So I told Dad I would go hurry him up because we wanted a game of pool, Dean loves playing pool, but I couldn’t find him. The car was there but the keys were on the ground. I called him thinking he was taking a leak but he never answered. So I went back inside and told Dad and we began to search for him._

We found him and there were two guys holding him in a nearby alley. Dean, ah his pants were around his ankles and one of the guy was…you know taking him and Dean was, well he looked out of it. As we ran into the alley they took off. Sorry I couldn’t tell you what they looked like or what they were wearing. It was a dark night and the alley was unlit. They just left Dean lying there all bloodied and hurt like that. They didn’t care what they had done to him. Does that mean they get away with this officer because I can’t describe them? I mean look what they did to Dean. How do we make it right for him? 

Of course you know the rest, I was driving us to the hospital and we were on the country road when that truck hit us and here we are. Hell Dean just wanted his jacket. No-one should have to suffer because of a jacket right? I don’t know officer we must’ve had victim labeled on us that night because that truck hit us and sure it was an accident but that driver was like…possessed. I was pretty dazed but I heard him cussing and shouting and then the passenger door was opened and I thought good he’s helping my brother but then he dragged Dean out onto the ground and he starts punching him. My brother had a broken leg, the bone was poking out through his skin and yet that man just laid into him. I shouted at him to stop although I’m not sure how loud I was because my head was hurting real bad but he must have heard me because he turned around and as he faced me I saw he had a gun. 

Geez he hit us so why did he come after us with a gun? I freaked. I mean my brother was hurt bad and now this psycho was pointing a gun at me. I got the door open and no I don’t know how I did it but I sort of fell out of the car and then that son of a bitch just walked up to me and pointed the gun in my face. I kicked him and I guess that caused him to pull the trigger because the thing went off as he fell over. He dropped the gun as he hit the ground and I remember wrestling with him but then he got hold of the gun again and I was trying to get it out of his hand as he stood up but it went off again. He just dropped to the ground. Oh god he was trying to kill us but I never wanted anything bad to happen to him. I sort of remember staggering away and calling to Dad but when I looked at him I saw that he had been shot in the leg. I called 911 and well we ended up here. Officer why did that man want to hurt us? He shot my Dad and hurt Dean. Why us? We did nothing wrong. 

Of course the response was always a fatherly pat on the back and a “there, there. It’s OK son. It was self-defense. That driver was high on uppers and sleep deprivation and he was running on animal instinct. If you hadn’t wrestled with him he would have done more than shot your Daddy, you would all be dead. It’s an open and shut case now you get back in there, your family needs you. You did good boy. Your Dad must be mighty proud.”

It was a clever story and one that sounded so genuine and it got them off the hook from a legal point of view anyway. The men who attacked Dean escaped and without a description couldn’t be found, it was obvious that the truck had hit them and not the other way around, John was found unconscious in the car with a bullet wound to the leg backing up the story that the gun went off in the initial tussle and as Sam’s and the driver’s prints were both found on the gun, _good thinking Sam to wipe off Dean’s prints and ensure that only his own and the drivers prints were on it,_ and the driver had a wound to the chest at close range which supported the self-defense plea. Surprisingly blood tests later established that the driver had taken an inordinate amount of drugs to stay awake for the long haul so that backed up the description that man was crazed. The main support to their claims was also the most obvious thing; let’s face it no-one would rape their son, have another son shoot them and then all three turn up in the emergency room and then stick together like glue. To everyone they seemed a close and loving family and nothing untoward was detected. They were good people and something bad had happened to them.

Of course no-one knew truth and let’s face it who would have believed them anyway if they told the real story of that night. Yeah that would have made an interesting police report…

_Well you see Officer my boys and I have been chasing this Demon since it slit open my wife’s stomach, pinned her to the ceiling and tried to abduct my six month old son but when I interrupted him he set fire to the nursery and I only had time to rescue the baby and give him to his four year old brother and watch helpless as the fire burnt at such intensity that nothing of my wife remained and my house and normal life went up in smoke. That was twenty two years ago and of course since then it also killed my youngest son’s girlfriend in the same way so we really needed to find this thing and kick it’s supernatural ass back to hell._

_So you can see we were on this vendetta and just the other day we found the son-of-a-bitch and the strangest thing happened. It possessed me. Me for fuck sake!! John Winchester hunter extraordinaire! So when my sons rescued me they actually got the demon too and the gun, well Dean had the gun actually. The gun is unique you see and it takes these special bullets too that kills anything supernatural and it was the _only_ thing that could kill this Demon. _

_So what happened was this… We were holed up in this cabin and I asked for the gun, well not me but the Demon, only the boys didn’t know it was the Demon. Dean must have sensed something though, the Demon praised him and here am I trapped inside my own body but I saw his face. He knew, oh god, he knew it wasn’t me._

_You know officer the sad thing is I so rarely told the boys that they did well. How bad is that? How sad is it that the only way my son could tell that his father was possessed was because he got praised and Dean knew his Dad would have torn him a new one rather that say “well done son.”_

_So Dean wouldn’t hand over the gun and Sam rushed in and sided with his brother and the Demon went postal. Pinned Sam to a wall; Demons have this superhuman strength and the flick of a hand can knock you ten feet or hold you against anything and you can’t escape. So here was Sam all beaten up by the Demon’s son...oh sorry I forgot to mention the Demon had a son and a daughter. Dean shot the son when the guy laid into Sam earlier in the night. Poor Dean, he was a busy boy that night because he had performed the exorcism of the Demon’s girl too; sent her straight to hell. So you can imagine how pissed this Demon was at Dean right?_

_You see the Demon wanted Sam, had wanted him since the night my wife died and now he had him pinned and helpless but Dean was a bonus and pay back is a bitch. So the Demon decided to take revenge because Dean had wasted his kids. It shoved him back onto the table, pinned him there and then it pulled off his jeans and it raped him. No preparation, straight in and oh god how that boy screamed. The pain must have been unbelievable. The Demon wanted to hurt him and seemed to feed off the pain and humiliation. The Demon kept talking to Sam saying how good it felt and did he like seeing his brother taken like this? All the while Dean was screaming and eventually sobbing. I can tell you Officer it broke my heart._

_You see he because the demon possessed me, it used my body to rape him. How hard must it have been for him knowing his father could see it all, even if he wasn’t in control and that his younger brother, the one person who he spent his life protecting was watching his downfall. Dean, who is so in control of his emotions, who tries so hard to never show weakness, was taken apart from the inside out. I could feel Dean dying inside with every thrust. The Demon kept telling him how good it felt, how tight he was and that the blood was making it even better. The Demon made him hard; made him cum, it said that Dean wanted it, that he obviously wanted Daddy to fuck him and all the while I’m inside my body begging that he stop hurting my boy. You could see the war going inside Dean with his head telling him it was the demon doing this to him but his eyes told him it was his Dad. How screwed up was that?_

_When he was done the demon dressed Dean saying, “Come on let Daddy help you” and that “Daddy might have to do that again real soon” and then he said “you know Dean, Daddy has wanted to do that for a long time. You remind him of Mary and as he doesn’t have her you are the next best thing and I must say we both enjoyed taking you.” Dean visibly wilted and he began retching. His strength, both emotionally and physically just ebbed out of him like the blood now staining his jeans._

_Sam had screamed a string of obscenities when the demon first pinned Dean but feel silent when his brother was raped. Shell shocked I guess. It just wasn’t something you saw every day and Sam was trying to cope the best he could. However, when the Demon began screwing with Dean’s head as well as his body then Sam sort of came out of his stupor and he began to plead with Dean to hold on, to not listen to it, to trust Dad, that Dad would never hurt him. The sad thing is there were plenty of times I had hurt Dean and I’d never even laid a finger on him._

_If only that had been the last of it, rape the boy and let him go but it wasn’t over by a long shot though. The demon flicked his hand and Dean, who was already bloodied and hurt, was pinned to a wall like his brother. The demon never let up on him, taunted him with all the things Dean felt; things I knew or thought I knew about what bothered Dean but never talked about them with him. It hit on his fear of abandonment big time, made him feel worthless and unloved, told him Sam and I didn’t need him like he needed us and then it said because Dean had killed its children he had to pay and that the rape was just the first installment._

_It stepped back and attacked him with invisible claws that shredded my boy inside and out. The blood flowed down his shirt and mixed with the blood already covering his jeans. Dean screamed, how could he not? The attack seemed endless. Sam was shouting at it to let Dean go and then Dean, poor ravaged Dean begged me, his father, to make it stop…Dad always protected him right and he trusted I still could. My heart shattered. I begged the Demon to stop, told it I would do anything as long as he didn’t kill my children and surprisingly it did stop but by then blood was dripping from Dean’s mouth and his head hung forward and I wasn’t even sure if he was still alive._

_So you see Officer that was the turning point when I got the upper hand, stopped the demon from mauling Dean further and that allowed Sam time to get free. Sam grabbed the gun and didn’t hesitate to shoot it, which meant he shot me; so that explains my leg wound. Anyway we always knew that the only way to kill this thing was a shot to the head or heart so a shot to the leg wasn’t enough to do it. That thing shuddered inside me before bursting out and escaping under the cabin. Sam dragged me outside and into the car then went back to get his brother, who had fallen to the floor when I was shot. We were heading to the hospital when the Demon truck driver slammed into us._

_It seemed the Demon wasn’t through with us yet. He wanted all of us dead. I had passed out but Sam stirred, he said he remembered the music was still playing and the truck lights were shining into the car. Then he heard the passenger door open and he heard Dean gasp and then a plaintive, breathy “No” before Dean was hauled outside by the Demon and pummeled mercilessly. Sam saw how twisted Dean’s leg was; knew it was broken and wondered what other injuries his brother had. He also knew that the Demon wouldn’t care about their injuries and that he needed to kill it before it killed them. He had one bullet left and he intended to use it. He still doesn’t know how he got the door open but adrenaline makes people do things they never thought possible. The demon turned as Sam staggered to his feet having literally fallen from the car. Sam didn’t hesitate as it rushed toward him. He lifted the gun and fired at the Demon hitting him in the chest at close range. Why the Demon didn’t stop him we’ll never know, maybe it was the shock of seeing one of his chosen ones turning on him or maybe he thought Sam was all bluff and that there were no bullets left, either way he dropped like a stone. It was over but there was no fanfare or cheering, it was just the still of night that was punctuated by Dean’s deathly gasps. It was the end of an era and yet to look at us no-one would have known how important and pivotal that night had been._

_Sam dialed 911 and very honestly told them his brother had been raped and then someone had hit the car and then tried to kill them. He begged for help and considering he was concussed and in shock himself he really didn’t have to act. His call for help was real. He had enough presence of mind to ensure the truck driver’s prints as well as his own were on the gun and luck was on our side as the truck driver was apparently doped up on whatever and that gave a nice edge to our story once we discovered that the next day. People said it explained so much and we nodded in agreement._

_Sam kept his wits about him that night, ensuring our cover story made sense and as you well know it did. I had always said plant a lie in the truth and the big truth of the night was in our names. We had gone into this hunt using our real names, more because if something happened I wanted people to know us, have us remembered as the Winchesters but I didn’t tell the boys that; I didn’t want to spook them._

_Want to know something else, never told the boys this but while I spent their college funds and everything else I could lay my hands on ammunition, I actually kept up health insurance for them. Used it sometimes when they were little but in recent years never bothered. I already had cover being a vet but this was the one thing for them I wasn’t prepared to forfeit. I know crazy isn’t it? Amazing what a man will cling too when his world turns inside out. Who would have thought that John Winchester, the hunter, saw his link to a normal life in health insurance?_

_It’s just we are in a dangerous game and I thought one day it might be needed. Not for the little stuff like being gouged by Daevas or stabbed and branded by rednecks but big stuff like this. Anyway most of the time we go hunting under assumed names so insurance would have been a waste of time but not this time. This was always going to be the one hunt where the Winchesters were “the Winchesters.” So I guess it wasn’t so crazy after all, at least Dean is getting the treatment he needs. It’s the least I could for him considering…well everything._

_So I figured I had covered all bases. I had left them something at least as they had health cover and if anything had happened to me it would have showed up in my papers and to be honest I really didn’t think that I would survive this fight. Little did I realize that the biggest casualty of the war would end up being Dean?_

_So you see Officer we have quite a story but it’s one we can’t easily tell people because not many people actually believe in the existence of ghosts and demons. We would have sounded like crazy folks not hunters who were dealt a tough blow. So after everything that has happened, at a time when we should be rejoicing, I sit here for the fifth day in a row clutching the hand of my oldest son who is one breath away from eternity…_

**************************************************************

 **Chapter 2** \- _The odds are six to five that the light in the end of the tunnel is the headlight of an oncoming train._

The code blue alarm sounded and the resuscitation team swung into action. John and Sam were making their way back to Dean’s room and like everyone else in the corridor they stepped out of the way as the team, with the crash cart in hand, rushed past them heading around the corner. 

The Winchesters looked at each other and something akin to panic gripped John, “Go!” he screamed at Sam, as he knew all too well whose room they were heading to. 

Sam ran to catch up with the resuscitation team hoping against hope that it was someone else who needed them and not his brother. He burst into Dean’s room to find half a dozen people crowded around Dean, who’s lifeless and uncovered body lay on the bed, while they feverishly worked to restart his heart.

“Dean? Oh god what happened? Dean?” Sam called as he tried to follow what was happening before his eyes.

Someone yelled to get him out and a hand grabbed his arm but he threw it off, “No!” he shouted without turning to face whoever had pulled him, because he had no intention of leaving Dean

As John limped towards Dean’s room he heard the calm and practiced commands of the medical team as they fought to revive his son…

“The patient is in ventricular fibrillation.”

“Time?”

“One minute.”

“Charging one hundred and fifty.”

“Clear!”

The sound of an electrical discharge echoed from the room.

“Administer .5 milligrams of Epinephrine.”

“No response.”

“Charging two hundred!”

“Clear.”

It was the sound or rather the absence of the normal sounds in the room that struck John just before he stepped through the door. The room was full of noise but the heart monitor that had steadily beeped for a week signifying that Dean’s was alive was now emitting a constant tone that indicated Dean’s heart had stopped. 

_Heart failure!_ The impact of that those two words slammed into John and he leant against the door frame to steady himself. 

As he entered Dean’s room he thought he knew what he would see but he wasn’t prepared for the reality of it. Dean lay naked on the bed, the evidence of the attack and the accident all too apparent and everywhere John looked there seemed to be IVs, tubes and wires. There didn’t seem to be a place on his son’s body that wasn’t attached to something designed to help him and yet it wasn’t enough to stop this from happening; it wasn’t enough to keep Dean alive. John watched as one of the team performed CPR, while someone else checked Dean’s eyes stating, “Pupils fixed and dilated” and another coated the defibrillator pads with gel. 

It shook John to the core. He could fight all the evil in the world but this was out of his control. He couldn’t fix this, hell right now he couldn’t even touch his son and an overwhelming sense of despair seized him as he realized his son might die and that he wouldn’t be able to hold him or reassure him that it was alright to let go; except that the reality was he didn’t want Dean to let go and he didn’t want to let Dean go. He needed to be right there stroking Dean’s hair, holding his hand and telling him he was safe and that nothing bad would happen. He needed to tell him to hold on just a little longer. He wanted to say that everything would be alright but he couldn’t get close enough and now nothing was alright; in fact it was all so very wrong.

John heard the defibrillator recharge and as the team backed away from the bed he watched as an electrical shock was sent coursing through his son’s body. He saw Dean arch violently off the bed and fall lifeless once more. John couldn’t see any more after that as his vision was obscured by the medical team and the tears that filled his eyes.

The doctors had warned them that Dean’s heart may stop; told them it was almost a given but Dean had held on. Held on until today but now John was mentally kicking himself for leaving his son alone. Some obscure part of him thought that this had happened because Dean thought they had abandoned him. Hell the Demon had told Dean outright how John and Sam didn’t need him. It was a lie of course but John never had the chance to refute it, to reassure Dean that he was loved and wanted. Not that John had ever been that forthcoming about his love for his boys he realized grimly. Of course his boys weren’t much better. Dean was renowned for his “dude no chick flick moments” comments and Sam, well his heart was on his sleeve but like all Winchesters the words “I love you,” were never said aloud. Maybe they should have been; maybe a lot should have been said and now it was too late.

“Charging two hundred.”

“Clear!”

“Time?”

“Two minutes!” 

“Up the charge to three hundred!”

It had only been a week since the accident and while Dean hadn’t woken up he hadn’t deteriorated either. So since John needed to have his own injuries checked in the clinic downstairs and as he was unsteady hobbling with a cane while his arm was still in a cast Sam had accompanied him. Truth be told John should have been in a wheel chair but Sam knew that hell would freeze over before his father admitted that he needed one of those. So they had gone off together at a pace that John could manage with reassurances from the staff that Dean was in good hands and that he would be just fine for the short time that they would be gone. They had been away an hour. That’s one hour out of the one-hundred-and-seventy-eight-and-half hours that they had been by Dean’s side since the accident and looked what happened.

“What’s happening?” Sam shouted at the crowd swarming around Dean’s bed. “Why isn’t it working?”

“Get them out of here,” someone ordered but as no-one moved to evict the men, they stood where they were hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

“Three hundred. Charging, Clear!” and the sound of electricity jolting through his Dean’s chest filled the room again.

“Again. Three hundred. Charge. Clear” 

“Up the Epi to 1 milligram.”

“No change.”

“Time?”

“Three minutes.”

“Charging.”

“Clear!”

The staff backed away as the doctor placed the pads on Dean’s chest and once more he his back arched up as his body was assaulted by an electrical discharge.

They all waited and then there it was…irregular at first but then the familiar and very comforting sounds of the heart monitor beeping. 

John gasped with relief and moved to the foot of the bed. “Dean,” he called before he started to sway as the shock of the week finally caught up with him.

“Mr. Winchester? Mr. Winchester are you all right?” asked portly Nurse O’Brien when she saw that he had gone deathly pale. “Sam get your father a chair quickly,” she ordered as she held John firmly with one arm around his waist the other holding his hand in comfort and reassurance, all the while she talked to him. “Now John, it’s John isn’t it? Come on now sit down here next to Dean.” She eased him into the chair Sam had pulled over. “That’s the way. There you go now. Head down now, just close your eyes a minute and take a few deep breaths. We don’t want the crash team thinking they have a new patient. You do know you don’t get a family discount if they treat both of you don’t you?” She smiled comfortingly. “Dean’s alright, we’ve got him stable and we will take good care of him I promise you.”

John didn’t notice the resuscitation team leave the room as he was too shaken by the turn of events to focus on anything other than not falling apart. All he knew was that for the first time in a long while he just wanted someone to take care of him and he was too spent to offer even token resistance to Nurse O’Brien’s care. At least he didn’t have to ask how Dean was doing because the heart monitor told him all he need to know and that was that Dean was alive. 

“Dad?” Sam hovered near his father, not sure what to do to help him. “Dad what’s wrong?”

John felt too overwhelmed to talk and what could he say? _Hey Sam it’s okay. I was just afraid that your brother would die before I could apologize for fucking him into the afterlife?_ In the end he simply managed a weak “…tired,” and the weariness in his voice led no-one to believe otherwise.

He was so incredibly tired. Tired from over twenty years of hunting, tired of not having Mary by his side, tired from spending every waking moment holding the hand of his comatose son, tired of being strong for Sam, tired of being afraid that if he closed his eyes Dean would die and tired from just walking back from the clinic. In every sense of the word John was exhausted and his shoulders started to shake as a lifetime of grief and pain bubbled to the surface.

“Sam lad be a good boy and get some tea, it’s just what he needs right now,” she firmly but kindly told him. Once Sam had gone she put a gentle hand on John’s shoulders and spoke sympathetically to him. “It’s not easy is it; being strong for them both. You’ve been through so much already but I can see how close you all are. Dean is lucky to have such a loving and caring family.” 

John just shook his head in despair.

“It’s alright John. Things will get easier.”

If she knew what I had done to Dean and what we have ahead of us she wouldn’t say that. How do I make this up to Dean, to both of them? 

John rubbed his eyes with his good hand as the tears flowed. Every fear, every worry, every hope and every dream were exorcised as he finally let it all out.

Nurse O’Brien never said a thing but stayed there as a lifeline for him to hold on to when he needed to pull himself together. Soon enough the turmoil eased and he just held his head in his hand, the occasional sniffs the only sign that the man was still fragile.

She handed him a few tissues, “Tell you what, how about I bring in a camp bed so that you can lie down. I know we suggested it a few days ago and you said no but I really think you would be doing yourself and the boys a favor if you lay down for a little while. Sam will sit with Dean and he will wake you if anything happens. You need to rest John. You won’t be any good to Dean if you end back in hospital with exhaustion. I think one Winchester laid up here is more than enough don’t you?”

John nodded his agreement and wiped his eyes.

“Thank you,” John said but she knew exactly what he was thanking her for.

“Any time,” she replied with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder.

Soon enough Sam was back trying to balance his father’s cup of tea on the saucer. “Dad?” he asked concerned when he saw his father’s defeated posture. He looked to Nurse O’Brien for an answer but she shook her head and her face clearly indicated that Sam wasn’t to press his father on the matter, whatever the matter was. So he nodded that he understood and handed over the tea. “Here you go. Hot, sweet tea and biscuits,” Sam said amazed to see his father drink anything other than a coffee that was so strong it stirred itself.

Sam stood next to Dean’s bed slightly afraid to touch his brother in case something happened to him, so he settled on looking at him instead. It was like watching a horror movie. Dean was covered in cuts, bruises, surgical scars, had a broken collarbone and broken leg. He was almost concealed by leads for monitors, then there were the IVs, blood transfusions, drainage tubes from his stomach and one even in his penis and of course the ever present tube down his throat attached to the ventilator. 

_You’d think it would be enough to help him,_ he thought sadly. 

He looked to Nurse O’Brien confused by what had eventuated earlier, “What happened? He was fine when we went downstairs?”

Nurse O’Brien pulled the covers up over Dean’s ravaged body and checked his IVs and meds, “Dr Jessop will explain it all Sam but Dean is tired and his body is worn out. He suffered a great deal when he was attacked and then the accident and sometimes despite everything we try to do it just isn’t enough. We were lucky today so let’s hope things start to get better for Dean.” Sam looked to his father and knew that his father already understood all of this but Sam didn’t want to believe that Dean could die. 

Nurse O’Brien saw that look on his face and recognized it for what it is. She had seen it on too many relatives and friends. Denial! People needed hope and the truth often took away that hope. She tried to sound more positive, “Look every day is a bonus. Dean has lasted seven days and considering his heart had stopped when he arrived here a week ago he has done pretty well. Every day he lasts it is one more in his favor, so let’s hope that he begins to get stronger.” 

Sam nodded but continued to stare at his brother, tears filling his eyes. “He looks so frail, like he would break if I hugged him. You know Nurse O’Brien Dean is strong and brave and he kicks ass. He listens to the worst music in the world and if he is driving you have to listen to his music. That’s the rule. Driver gets to choose and the passenger shuts his cake hole. His car is this old black ’67 Chevy.” Sam smiled as he remembered the Impala before the accident. “You know girls flock to Dean. He is such a flirt although I think he attracts his fair share of men too but he probably doesn’t even realize that. He plays pool like a pro and he can make things out of nothing. He knows so much stuff and he is so smart even if he never went to college and he loves me and Dad more than anything in the world. He’s my big brother; he’s always been there for me. You know he was four when our Mom died and he carried me out of our burning house. Funny you know he told me on the day of the accident that when he was a little boy he wanted to be a fireman. Dad did you know that?” He looked at his father. “You know he also said that he barely feels like he is holding it together and that we were all he has. He can’t die,” the tears flowed freely as did his frustration and fear.

“It’s okay Sam,” John whispered standing unsteadily to comfort his younger son. “Dean will be alright.”

“No it’s not okay. How do we know that? How can we be sure that by this time tomorrow he won’t be dead? There has to be something we can do. We can’t just sit here and watch it happen. When have we ever just let things happen and not tried to make it better? We have to try,” he pleaded.

John pulled Sam to him and hugged him fiercely.

“We have to try.”

“This time Sammy we just hope,” John murmured as his own tears resurfaced. “All we can do is hope.”

Nurse O’Brien left the room to give the men privacy to grieve. She knew how hard it was on families and while they might feel like everything was falling apart this was actually good for them. Sitting by a loved one’s beside was a great stress and every so often it needed release. Most people struggled with the fragility of life especially when some patients were hanging on by a thread like Dean was. To many staff those patients seemed like angels in waiting and everyone just prayed that they passed peacefully. Nurse O’Brien wanted Dean to live but experience told her that the odds were that he would die and nothing anybody did would change that. Still she also believed in miracles and since Dean had seemed to be the exception to the rule from the minute that 911 call was first rung in, maybe he would turn out to be a miracle. She hoped so for all the Winchester’s sake.

She gave the men a long while to work out their fears and their tears before coming back into the room. When she did she popped her head through the door first checking that they were alright. She saw they were both sitting there just watching Dean as if he would disappear if they dared to turn away.

“It’s that time of the day,” she announced to the men as she wandered in to the room laden with towels, fresh linen and a bowl. Turning to Dean she said, “Well young man you caused quite a stir in here today but now things have quieted down I think it high time we give you a bit of a wash. If you are going to persist in lying in that bed all day you need to at least smell nice.” She turned to Sam who seemed shattered by everything that had happened “Sam talk to your brother while I get his bath organized.”

Sam looked over to Nurse O’Brien who getting the bath ready and asked, “Can he really hear me?” 

It really didn’t matter if Dean couldn’t because Sam actually found it quite comforting to talk aloud to him anyway but right now Sam was wondering what the hell he would say considering Dean’s heart had stopped and restarted. Somehow talking to his comatose brother about his near death experience seemed too weird. Questions like did you see a white light would just have to wait.

“Well I have worked in ICU for a long time and I have seen a lot of comatose patients. Let’s just say that half of them say that they knew their loved ones were there and the other half said they didn’t. Mind you probably half of those that said they didn’t still responded to their loved ones. Sometimes they would move a finger or respond to a voice or a song and their heart rate would increase. So even if they didn’t remember, it was obvious their loved ones were having some impact on them. So my advice is talk to Dean. Let him know you are here and that way he won’t feel alone. Personally I really think it makes a difference especially when they have been hurt as bad as Dean has; it may make the difference between living and dying. So you give him a reason to stay Sam.”

She left to get some cream for Dean’s bath, so Sam just started talking to his brother like he would if Dean were awake. The sound of Sammy’s voice was comforting to John who sat there sipping his now cold tea and thanking whatever deity existed that Dean was alive. He didn’t want to think about whether this might happen again. Right now this victory was enough. 

“Dean you scared the shit out of me man.” Sam admitted holding his brother’s fingers gingerly as if anything more might hurt him. Deciding that Dean needed him to sound strong even if he wasn’t he just started to prattle about everything and anything. “Hey Dean you should’ve seen Dad dude. He was drinking tea. No shit tea out of cup and he even had a saucer,” John smiled when he heard that; sometimes it was the simplest things that made the day seem normal. 

“Ok young man time for bath and a change of sheets,” said Nurse O’Brien as she swept back into the room. 

Sam wasn’t sure if he should leave but in the end his fear that if he did something would happen to Dean won out and so he stayed.

“Ah do you need a hand?” he asked Nurse O’Brien a little unsure what she might ask him to do.

“No lad. Not yet. Dean and I will be just fine, won’t we sweetheart?”

She expertly washed Dean from head to toe. She maintained his dignity by keeping him covered as much as possible; carefully cleaning around drains, sutures, dressings and IV’s. She had done this a thousand times before but she still did it with care and not a little sympathy for the poor people who were so ill or injured that they ended up in this state.

“Alight, let’s give you a bit of a massage and fix up this bed shall we? Sam come and give me a hand love. We can’t move him too much but I am going to roll Dean a little towards you and I need you to hold him gently but firmly ok. When patients lie too long in one spot they get pressure sores and we don’t want that to happen to Dean, so I am going to just wash his back, give him a little massage to get the blood flowing and then put some cream into the skin to keep it from breaking down.” She proceeded to tenderly treat one side of Dean’s back. “Now you got him?” she asked before going on.

“Yeah!” Sam was amazed at how still Dean was. His brother was never still, never quiet and he definitely would never let Sam do this to him. He would be so embarrassed if he knew. Even when he was badly injured Dean just wanted the no frills “fix it up Sammy” repair job. Dean hated all the fuss and attention.

“Right we’re going to change the sheets.” Nurse O’Brien quickly and carefully rolled the old sheet up along the length of Dean and put the new one down next to it, tucking it in at the ends of the bed. “Now carefully roll Dean on to his back and I will swap places with you and we do the same thing on his other side. Now we have to be extra careful as this is broken collarbone side. Not too far now I only need him raised a little bit to get to him. That’s it.” She said as she quickly but carefully dragged the old sheet from under Dean, tossed it in the linen hamper and straightened the clean sheet. “Ok let’s get him on his back again.” 

It was when they rolled Dean on to his back that John and Sam both looked at each other and then at the heart monitor because Dean’s heart was starting to race just a little. They just stared at it unsure as to what it meant; all the while Nurse O’Brien put a fresh top sheet over Dean and checked that all his tubes and drips were still in place. 

“Nurse O’Brien? Look.” Sam said pointing to the monitor in case she had missed it.

She smiled knowing full well that Dean was showing some level of awareness but letting Sam revel in his discovery nonetheless, “Well, well. Remember what I said Sam? Some patients just respond to their loved ones.”

Sam placed his hand on Dean’s head stroking the hair gently, “Its ok Dean we’re here,” and he watched in amazement as the beat steadied. It seemed that Dean was comforted by Sam being there.

“Dad?”

“I see it Sammy,” John said as he staggered to his feet. “Dean-o its Dad,” he said softly as he held his son’s hand. The heart beat raced and then settled again. “You’re safe here son. No bad things are out there anymore,” he explained. He was desperate for Dean to know that the Demon was gone but he didn’t want to sound like a nut case in front of Nurse O’Brien. “He knows!” John was astounded. “He knows we’re here.” His eyes filled with tears. “That’s a good thing right?” He asked Nurse O’Brien looking for some sign that Dean was getting better.

“Well it’s not a bad thing. Look Dr Jessop should comment on what it means in Dean’s case but there are levels to a coma and my guess is Dean is moving from a deep coma to a moderate level and yes that’s a good thing.” She smiled at both men. “Right I am going to organize that bed for you John and then I need to apply some cream to Dean’s injuries so I will be back in a moment.”

John and Sam smiled at each other. Maybe today had been a turning point after all. 

Soon enough Nurse O’Brien was back. “You may want to step outside while I do this,” she remarked to both men, knowing that what she had to do was unpleasant. She was grateful that Dean was unconscious because to a rape patient who was awake this would be traumatic. 

“No I’ll stay…” Sam calmly replied and then he clicked. This had been a regular thing since day one. “Oh ah right. I might just go get a coffee then.” And he fled the room. He just knew that Dean would never forgive him if he stayed while this was done to him.

“I’m staying!” John’s tone brokered no argument.

She nodded not expecting anything less from him. “Dean love I have to put some cream in your back passage. You had a lot of tearing and we don’t want it to get infected. I’ll be as quick as I can sweetheart I promise. Try not to worry.”

She donned gloves, pushed up the sheet covering Dean exposing his lower regions. Then she pushed his legs up and open, before lubricating two fingers with the medicated ointment and inserting them into Dean.

John winced. He could see how bruised the area was and he offered up a silent prayer that Dean was out to it. He held Dean’s hand and tried to keep talking but he wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or Dean’s. “Almost done Son, you’re doing fine. This will help you heal,” all the while though he could see on the monitor that Dean’s heart was racing.

“Can he feel this? Is he in pain?” he asked concerned that the treatment designed to help Dean might actually send his son into heart failure again.

“No he’s on a lot of pain killers but he was raped and unconscious or not there is a part of him that knows what is happening and my guess is he is afraid. Just talk to him John.”

“Come on calm down kiddo. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Nurse O’Brien quickly finished and settled Dean’s legs back on the bed and pulled the sheet down over his body, “There, there lad it’s all done.”

The monitor was still showing Dean was distressed and John was concerned. “Calm down Dean it’s…Jesus!” John yelled in shock.

Sam ran into the room, he had being hovering just outside the door waiting for them to finish. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh my god, Dean!” John cried as he stared into the open green eyes of his son. 

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 3** \- _Perplexity is the beginning of knowledge._

“But he opened his eyes!” Sam all but yelled at the doctor as he paced back and forth in the small office.

“Yes he did.” Dr Jessop calmly replied.

“So that’s normal? He opens them and he closes them and that’s what? A normal response, because I have to tell you that was really freaky. ”

“Sam!” John’s tone held a note of caution but he had to admit he totally understood his son’s frustration. After ten days of looking into Dean’s open but empty green eyes John was about to lose it himself. Things were not going well as they had hope because Dean was still in a coma, had gone into heart failure again three days ago and was now back in surgery to relieve pressure on his brain from a bleeding clot caused by who knows what. So John appreciated Sam’s frustration it was just his son’s tone that annoyed him.

“Dr Jessop I need answers,” John’s explained to a man who he honestly thought didn’t understand what they were going through. “What’s going on with Dean? I thought when he opened his eyes that he would start to get better, so how come he has gone backwards?” 

“Mr. Winchester there is no schedule for recovery from a coma and quite frankly many people never recover from them. Dean was severely injured so we can’t just take it for granted that he will steadily improve and that everything will go back to normal. That might happen in Hollywood but this is real life and you should expect that when or if Dean wakes he will have some after affects or worse complications from the coma.”

“So where do we stand doc?” John asked. It was like they were always one step behind what was happening to Dean and John had spent too many years one step behind the Demon to want to start that dance all over again. He needed to know everything about this new enemy to feel at least marginally in control of a situation that seemed to be totally out of control. “Tell me straight what are we facing?”

“Well let’s look at what we know shall we?” The men nodded in agreement. “Ten days ago Dean opened his eyes during a procedure. Since then almost every treatment, procedure or even a sponge bath has caused his heart to race and his eyes to open. I want to assure you that due to his medications Dean wouldn’t be feeling any pain but he does show signs of anxiety. Basically he is afraid which is why when you two touch him he calms down. At some level he knows he is safe with you.”

Sam had stopped pacing and was leaning against the office wall. He stared at his father at that comment and something other than sadness briefly crossed his face. To anyone watching it would seem that the men simply shared an understanding of Dean’s situation but John knew that look for what it was. He knew Sam didn’t hate him for what he/the Demon had done to Dean but they hadn’t had a chance to discuss it either, to clear the air. At first there had been no time to share thoughts and fears and then as the days passed it was easier to ignore it or to dance around the issue and focus on Dean. Of course there was no escaping it; they both knew that. John knew that they needed to talk it through before Dean woke because the last thing his eldest son needed his father and brother tearing each other apart about the whole demon possession thing. Dean would have enough on his plate without them adding.

Dr Jessop continued, “So ten days ago Dean showed some minor improvement but the second heart failure seems to have reversed his progress. Unfortunately Mr. Winchester Dean’s health is finely balanced at the moment and it takes very little tip the scales.”

John sighed loudly. Every day there was more bad news and just once he wanted to see Dean sitting up in bed, teasing Sam and grumbling about being in hospital. He didn’t want to have to face the daily rundown about how badly his son was doing. 

“To complicate matters Dean developed a chronic subdural hematoma which was slowly bleeding into his brain. This was something we had worried about in the first few days after he came here but it all seemed to be going well until today.”

“But if you thought it would happen straight after the accident and it didn’t, then why did it happen now?” Sam began pacing again. “I mean it’s been seventeen days Dr Jessop. Why now? Why at all?” 

“Sam we call it chronic because it is something that develops over time, usually at least ten days after the initial trauma. Dean’s neurosurgeon Dr Talbot will have more information but it looks like the clot has been developing slowly and overnight began to seep into the surrounding brain tissue. In fact it’s good that it’s chronic because statistically some 78% of people with this type of bleed fully recover. Let’s hope Dean is in that group.”

“So how did you know it was happening? Dean seemed the same today as he was yesterday.” John was sure nothing had changed with his son.

“This morning Sister O’Brien noticed that Dean was exhibiting signs of what we call decerebrate rigidity. This is not good. When you saw Dean this morning, did you notice that his left hand was fisted and turned towards his body? Even the right hand, braced against his chest due to the broken collarbone was in a fist. His feet were pointed downwards instead of in a flexed position and his head was arched back just slightly.”

“Now that you mention it, I couldn’t hold his hand, it was clenched tight,” Sam looked stricken. “I thought that was a good sign. That he was able to move his fingers. I didn’t know…”

“It’s alright Sam we don’t expect you to know these things,” Dr Jessop assured him. It was a rare moment of kindness from the very matter-of-fact doctor. “Unfortunately all those signs are symptoms of intracranial pressure and they indicated that Dean may have developed a subdural hematoma here,” he pointed to his left temple and both John and Sam winced knowing that was the side of Dean’s head that hit the car door. “Surgery is not always required but the MRI we did earlier today showed that while the bleed was small, the clot itself was large and it needed to be drained before it caused any further damage. Of course we were left no doubt about what needed to be done when Dean had the seizure a short time after the MRI. Seizures are common in this situation but they are not something we can ignore. Quite frankly we had to operate or he may have died or been left severely brain damaged.” 

“So how do they do it?” John had a vague idea but he wanted to make sure he understood it all. 

“Doctor Talbot will cut a small hole in Dean’s skull so that he can access his brain. He will repair any ruptured blood vessels and drain the clot. The piece of bone is replaced and a drain will be inserted to remove excess blood from the surgery. Now we just wait and hope that the bleed hasn’t caused any irreversible damage.”

“When will know?” John reasoned it was better to have all the information now than be shocked by a turn of events later.

Dr Jessop looked at both men, took a deep breath and pressed on, “Look Mr. Winchester, Sam, Dean is doing it tough at the moment. We’ll just have to wait and see.” He hoped that would be the end of it but he knew the Winchesters were just not people to leave things alone.

“Do you think there will be any brain damage?” John pressed the doctor. He simply couldn’t get his head around the concept of Dean never being the man he was. That just seemed so cruel and he would have preferred to lose his son outright to the Demon than see him permanently brain damaged. It was a fate John just didn’t want for his son.

“Honestly?” Dr Jessop asked looking from father to son. “I can’t promise you that he will be the same as before. We simply won’t know what we are dealing with until he actually wakes. Bottom line is if we were just talking about the coma I would tell you that the longer Dean stays in a coma the less likely that he will wake and if he does wake the more likely he will have some level of temporary or permanent impairment. This impairment could be either physical, psychological or emotional or a combination of all three. However what we must factor in is that he had a bleed in his brain and what damage that has done will only complicate his current comatose state. The bleed stops blood to parts of the brain by pooling in one area and this can lead to brain cell death. However the bleed was small and quickly contained so fingers crossed it will have minimal impact.”

“So is there a point where we say the situation is hopeless?” John asked.

“If we have a patient in a coma longer than a month then we start to assume that the patient may be more likely to exhibit some disability. Look today is day seventeen Mr. Winchester we have a bit of time up our sleeve yet, maybe in few days who knows. I’ve seen some spectacular miracles over the years.” The doctor didn’t want to add that those miracles were few and far between.

“I know you said that there may be some impairment but what exactly does that mean?” Sam was getting anxious as he tried to grasp the complexities of Dean’s situation. “Would Dean be able to talk or drive a car or read a book? Or would he just bang his head against a wall and scream?” 

“Sam sit down, please.” Dr Jessop sat back and waited for Sam to compose himself. This family just had to know it all and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Still if they wanted the facts he would give them the facts. Lord knows what he had already outlined would have been enough for anyone else but the Winchesters were decidedly single minded. 

“Let’s step back a bit and before we discuss the disabilities Dean might have and let’s actually look at where he is right now. When a patient is in a coma we watch for eye, verbal and motor, that’s hand or body, responses. We rate them on a scale of one to fifteen; one being the worst and fifteen being a fully awake and aware person. What we have found is that Dean is on the second worst level for eye response. He opens his eyes in response to potentially painful experiences so that rates a two. There is no verbal communication at all so that’s a one and his motor responses are a two because of the decerebrate posturing. That makes a total of five which means Dean is in a severe coma. Perhaps without all his problems he may have progressed beyond that level by now but sadly that is not the case.”

Dr Jessop ploughed ahead detailing a seemingly endless description of doom and gloom while John and Sam sat in stunned silence. John admitted to himself that deep down he had wanted to hear that Dean was doing fine. It was cliché but comforting. Of course Dr Tell It How It Is just laid it all out there but they only had themselves to blame for that; they had insisted on all the facts and now they had to deal with them. Dr Jessop was not one to let them down easily; they had discovered that from day one. As John listened to the doctor’s monologue he couldn’t help but think that Dr Jessop sacrificed his bedside manner with other innocent creatures at midnight while dancing around a hell fire. The man just wouldn’t shut up and seemed to gain momentum as he gleefully explained each and every injury, complication and life threatening condition to his captive audience.

“Now as for what impairments Dean may suffer well, the longer he remains in a coma the more pronounced the disability. Even if he woke tomorrow he would probably have trouble with coordination. Simple tasks like using a knife and fork may be challenging. His speech may be impaired and he may suffer short term memory loss or some level of amnesia or may be in an altered state. That is he may revert to an earlier age. He may not be able to walk without assistance and this will be more a problem because of his broken leg. The muscles in his body will initially not be able to support his weight and he will need constant assistance to achieve even simple tasks such as having a shower or going to the bathroom. Some of these problems may be temporary but others may remain for quite some time or forever. It all really depends on the how long he is in a coma and now of course how bad the bleed in his brain was.”

John had an overwhelming urge to bang his head on the doctor’s desk but he knew that would have simply given himself a headache and that would not have stopped the unending report of bad news. While Sam just stared open mouthed at the doctor trying to grasp hope in what seemed to be a particularly bleak future for them all. 

Dr Jessop on the other hand saw what he had seen many times before; families horrified by the truth and unable to comprehend the full impact of what had happened. Part of him was pleased to realize that the Winchesters were as normal as everyone else; he was beginning to think he had been assigned the family from hell. It seemed the Winchesters thought their doctor was from hell so they at least had common ground even if they didn’t know it.

“Look all I can suggest is we play the waiting game but I promise you we won’t give up on Dean and neither should you.”

“Dr Jessop I can assure you that we are here for long haul,” John sat back, the headache building behind his eyes. He had always thought that once the Demon was gone that they would just get on with their lives but he never really thought about what that meant. He knew he wanted Sam to finish college and he wanted Dean to have a home but he honestly never thought about what he and Dean would do later on. Now it would seem John would end up being a full time care-giver to his disabled son and the thought frightened and saddened him.

“Now we need to discuss Dean’s other problems…”

“What? There’s more?” Sam was astonished. _Surely a coma, bleeding in the brain, heart failure, rape, car accident and broken bones were enough in anyone’s language. Oh yes and don’t forget being mauled by one seriously pissed off Demon and that should be that._

“Sam let Dr Jessop continue,” John stared down his younger son daring him to argue.

“Dean has had two episodes of heart failure. His heart is tired due to the stress from the injuries and that is a huge problem. We are closely monitoring his heart but really we can’t predict when or even if it might happen again. I’m saying this now because the stress of surgery may cause other problems and I want you to be prepared for the worst.”

“What jump starting him again?” asked Sam sarcastically.

“No death.”

Sam grew pale and sat back quietly, the rebuke accepted.

“Now, about his other problems, I do have some good news. The fracture of his lower right leg is healing well. The leg injury was consistent with a sudden impact and Dean’s leg simply snapped when the right side of the car crumpled around it. His leg was initially placed in a temporary splint because his condition was too fragile to risk surgery straight away. The orthopedic surgeon is however confident that the four day delay would not have compromised Dean’s ability to walk normally although as we have already discussed the after effects of the coma and bleed might.”

 _Some good news finally,_ thought John. 

“The cast will be on for at least three more weeks then Dean will need physiotherapy to help strengthen the leg. He may have a limp initially but over time and other impairments aside, with therapy that should lessen and hopefully disappear altogether. At this stage the wound from where the bone came through the skin is healing nicely and all being well the risk of infection is minimal. He will have a scar at the site but really considering his other injuries a scar is the least of his worries.”

John grimaced slightly as he tried to imagine Dean coping with months of therapy. It was a scary thought and somehow hunting looked like a family picnic compared to what lay ahead for them all.

“Dean also had a fracture to his left clavicle, that’s his collarbone, which most likely occurred when he was thrown against the car door on impact and that’s when the concussion would have occurred as well which ultimately lead to the bleed today. Normally a broken collarbone doesn’t require surgical intervention but when the break is near the shoulder end of the clavicle, as Dean’s was, surgery is necessary. I see from the notes here that the orthopedic surgeon wants a follow up when Dean wakes so that he can determine if there has been any nerve damage. If there has, then further surgery may be required to rectify that problem. It is a rare complication but better that you are aware of what may go wrong. The injury has also been slightly stressed when we used the defibrillator, the jerking of his body has put a strain on the break but we expect that it will be fully healed in another three to four weeks so he is looking good on that front too.”

“Oh and the bruised ribs on his left side have healed quite well. Lucky that he was in a coma actually or they would have hurt quite a bit.” John and Sam gave matching looks of disbelief at the doctor’s poor attempt at humor. “Anyway considering how bruised Dean was he was fortunate that none of his ribs cracked in the accident so he was spared the problem of collapsed lungs and other nasty complications, so that’s good isn’t it?

John and Sam nodded. Not great but better than they had hoped for but then broken bones were something they were more than familiar with; they could deal with that side of Dean’s injuries.

“Dean’s main problem is the effects of the massive hemorrhage. He was bleeding profusely internally and the loss of blood has had a major impact on his recovery. To be honest anyone who lost that much blood should be dead.” 

_Well thank you Captain Obvious,_ Sam rolled his eyes. _Like we didn't know how lucky Dean was._

The doctor continued, seemingly oblivious to Sam’s reaction. “He received numerous transfusions in the first week and while that replenished what he had lost his hemoglobin is still far too low.”

“So what does that mean?” Sam tried to sound less sarcastic. After all he didn’t want to be thrown out of the office for being rude; well not until he fully understood Dean’s state of health at least.

“He is anemic. He lost of red blood cells and they carry oxygen in the blood throughout the body. If Dean was awake he would feel weak and tired all the time but he is in a coma. So although he is essentially asleep his body is struggling to get the oxygen he needs. It is unfortunate that this has occurred but honestly it is to be expected considering the amount of blood he lost. Did you know that only 0.13% of the population develop anemia every year so he is unlucky in that sense but we can treat it?”

 _There are those statistics again._ John wondered if the man made a hobby of learning seemingly useless stats to quote to shell-shocked families.

“How?” Both John and Sam asked in unison concerned about this new development.

“We are giving him iron supplements, B12 and folic acids and that will help to restore his depleted iron stores. If Dean wakes up and he goes back to solid food we will continue the iron treatments and place him on a high iron diet and when he goes home that regime should continue. This means no take-out gentleman. He will need vegetables and red meats and good quality home cooked food.

Sam sighed and shrugged, “We’ll he’s screwed then, cause none of us can cook.”

“Sam!” John snapped; his younger son was seriously testing his patience. In fact John really thought that it was easier to fight demons than all of this. “Are there any other things we need to know?”

“Anemia has a number of complications if it can’t be controlled. They are rare but Dean is in such a compromised state the odds are he may well develop them and you should be prepared for the worst.”

“That being death of course!” Sam knew he was being a pain but he was tired, frustrated and feeling downright useless. His earlier promise to himself to be mature flew out the window with what seemed to be any hope that life would ever return to normal for them all.

John ignored his son. “And exactly what complications are they?” 

“He may suffer heart damage.” 

Sam winced as he thought of how badly Dean’s heart had been affected by the electrocution when he had killed the Rawhead a while back.

“Ah Dean was electrocuted accidentally about six months ago, the doctors gave him the all clear though but that couldn’t affect him now could it?” Of course the doctor didn’t need to know that Dean was healed by faith healer using a reaper and that reaper then turned on Dean. No the electrocution should be enough; their lives were too weird to say anything else even if it was the truth.

John nodded his approval to Sam; for the first time since they entered the office Sam said something useful. John also knew how upset Dean had been that he never contacted him or saw him when he was dying and that gave Sam another reason to pick at Dad. It was a bad mistake on John’s part not contacting the boys and Sam wouldn’t let that one go anytime soon. _Dean was dying and you didn’t care; what do you care about Dad because it sure as hell doesn’t seem to be us?_ Oh yes that particular argument raged for weeks but the hurt will take a lot longer to resolve. It was just another thing that he needed to settle with the boys and that list sadly was growing daily.

“We saw no evidence of scarring on the heart so I would say that he fully recovered from that incident. Your brother does seem to attract bad luck doesn’t he?” Dr Jessop mused before returning to the problem at hand. “So heart damage is a potential long term problem but with further transfusions and iron supplements we hope to lessen that problem. However, although Dean may overcome the anemia it may take six to twelve months for him regain his former strength and that’s what I say when anemia is the only problem; you are more than aware the combination of conditions he has may take a huge toll on his recovery for quite some time.”

“Is that it Doctor?” John was hoping against hope that there was nothing more he needed to be aware of. He was struggling with it all as it was.

“The other major concern is what we call hospital-acquired pneumonia.”

“But pneumonia is common and treatable,” John pointed out and considering Dean was already in a hospital that surely meant everything could be controlled.

“Hospital-acquired pneumonia is a complication that patients like Dean develop. In fact 5% of all patients who come to hospital for something else will develop it. Its causes, treatment and prognosis are different from those of the pneumonia you are familiar with. People who are on a ventilator are more prone to it, as are those with heart problems and compromised immune systems. Dean fits all those categories so you can see why we are concerned.”

“But it’s still pneumonia right?” Sam was sure both he and Dean had had pneumonia when they were younger and it was treated. No problems, no side effects, nothing. 

“Actually Sam our concern here is that Dean could develop a strain of drug resistant bacteria and this means because he has other underlying conditions then the pneumonia is more dangerous. Look it is a real concern but we are aware that it might happen and will deal with it if it does.”

John rubbed a hand over his face. He was so tired and today’s complications only added to his worries. 

“Gentleman things are difficult for Dean and what he suffered would have killed someone else and quite frankly should have killed him. The good thing is that he was in excellent physical condition before all of this and that has helped him. I have to say that Dean seems to be a fighter and that is important considering what he is facing. Now unless you have further questions, why don’t you go get a coffee and try to relax. It will be awhile before Dean is back on the floor.”

They nodded their thanks to the doctor and fled the office desperate to put the litany of Dean’s injuries and complications behind them even for just a minute. 

“So...?” John looked at Sam and shrugged.

“So…?” Sam replied hands in pockets, rocking on his heels, unsure of what to say.

“Coffee?” They both agreed and headed towards the cafeteria to while away the endless hours until Dean returned to the ward.

************************************

Hours later Dean was brought back to his room. He looked awful. His head was shaved on one side, a drainage tube protruded from the bandage wrapped around his head, he was deathly pale and he sported two black eyes. All in all he looked a wreck.

“Hey there kiddo,” John whispered. “You had us worried there for a while but the doc says the surgery was a success so you just concentrate on getting better okay.”

“Dean wow nice hair cut man,” Sam said gently stroking his brother’s face. “Dad look!” Sam pointed to Dean’s hand which lay by his side. “No fist.”

John smiled for the first time in weeks, “Well maybe things are getting better after all.”

**********************************

And at that point there seemed to be a glimmer of hope but four days later Dean was exactly as he had been that night after surgery. John and Sam had taken turns to sit with him. They spoke to him, comforted him and held his hand. He never stirred and he never opened his eyes and now three weeks after it all began, they both began to wonder if Dean would ever return to them.

The days slipped by and life was punctuated not by hours and minutes but by the medical staff who checked Dean’s vital signs, topped up his medications and uttered hollow reassurances to “hang in there because miracles do happen.” However, John didn’t believe in miracles, nor did Dean. In fact all three of them tackled life head on and expected little in return. They made things happen and never sat back hoping that something divine would step in and change everything for the better. 

Most of their lives they had driven into two bit towns and removed evil from the midst of a fearful population and rarely received a thank you and more often than not were given a police escort across county lines. 

_Well thank you too officer. Have a nice day and long life. That werewolf up there in them there woods is dead so you can now hunt and fish in the wilds without the wild biting back._

No it was never about thanks or payment or recognition; it was all about saving good people from bad things. No miracles, just hard work.

For the better part of twenty two years they crisscrossed the country fighting the good fight. As John always told the boys, ‘if it flies under the radar it’s in our line of sight; so keep your eyes open.’ So they went in fully prepared to take on whatever was thrown their way and they walked from it successful most times. Even when they staggered away battered and bloodied they regrouped and moved on to fight the next incarnation of terror. 

John and the boys knew all too well what was out there. They dealt with it but he often wondered how ordinary people would cope if they knew the stuff of nightmares really existed? His boys definitely understood what lay hidden in the dark. They knew that the things that go bump in the night really can hurt you and that the monster in the closet often just needs a hefty dose of rock salt to send it back into the dead of the night. 

They learnt from bitter experience what happens when you don’t understand what these things are or what they are capable of doing. Mary’s death brought that home to John and he made sure as soon as he could that his boys understood what had happened to their mother and what he thought caused her death. It became a family mission; although Sam would say it was an obsession, to find ‘the-thing-that-killed-Mom.’ However John knew that sometimes it was a fine line between his quest for justice for Mary’s death and his tunneled vision need for revenge and his boys had walked that tight-rope with him many a time.

The journey hadn’t been smooth sailing by any stretch of the imagination. The Demon had evaded them for a long time but John was a patient man. Time in the Marines and a tour of duty in Vietnam, where your enemy was often not obvious, had helped hone his skills, instincts and patience. He knew the benefit of waiting and he had waited a very long time for the final confrontation. Of course it hadn’t quite gone the way he had hoped but at least they all came out of it alive. A glance at the battered figure of his oldest son reminded him that Dean paid a higher price for that face off than either Sam or he had.

So here they were a little over three weeks ago facing the one entity that had dogged their days since Mary’s death and he was the mother and father of all evil. Even the fact that the Demon knew that John’s greatest weakness was his boys and had used that against him; it hadn’t been enough for the demon and his malevolent off-spring to win. Meg had been exorcised, her demon brother was dispatched back to wherever he was spawned from and the big daddy of them all was now just a distant bad memory. So the odds of any of them surviving that final confrontation had been very slim indeed and yet survive they did; a little the worse for wear but alive nonetheless.

So today John’s heart and soul were focused on his broken son and not for the first time he wondered if the price paid for the Demon’s death had been worth twenty odd years of hunting and Dean’s life which now hung by a thread. The thing that kept racing through his mind was that a man shouldn’t out live his children and he hoped he wouldn’t have to. Dean might be at death’s door but he deserved to live after the life he had been forced to lead.

Both John and Sam had lost the love of their lives, Mary and Jess and Dean had lost his Mom. Some might say that was less important than your soul mate but John knew that wasn’t true and he knew how much Mary’s death had devastated the boy. He recalled after Mary died that Dean rarely talked nor did he leave John’s side. For that matter he never left Sammy either. Morning after morning John found Dean in Sammy’s crib his arms securely around his brother even though he had gone to sleep in his own bed. John sort of understood in those early days that Dean felt abandoned; it was obvious that something was wrong when the boy clung to the two constants in his life, his Dad and his baby brother. 

John rubbed a hand over his face and sighed wearily. Not for the first time he wondered why Dean had accompanied him all these years and dragged Sam back to them because he certainly wasn’t the greatest Dad around but John did the best he could, at least he thought he did. Sam of course was never shy in pointing out John’s many lapses into drunken oblivion, ‘doin’ a Miller time shift’ his younger son called those times. Oh yes Jim, Jack, and Jose had often kept him company during many a long lonely night and sadly his sons were left to find their own comfort. The regrets of the past haunted him and they were not as easily exorcised as some of the other demons he had encountered. 

John sighed again as the realization hit him that Sam’s departure and then his own must have ripped Dean’s heart out and undermined Dean’s hard fought for confidence. Now as he held Dean’s lifeless fingers in his own, he regretted never having dealt with the boy’s fears of being alone and he promised himself that he would not abandon his son again. Abandonment was not going to be one of Dean’s problems any more. 

Though for all that he promised to fix in the future, right now John felt inadequate as he looked at Dean, who seemed more dead than alive. Sadly at a time when his son needed him the most there was nothing he could do except sit and wait because when it came down to it this was the one fight Dean had to do alone.

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 4** \- _The aim of argument, or of discussion, should not be victory, but progress._

“Are we ever going to talk about it?”

The clearly frustrated voice cut through the silence of the small room and John could not pretend he hadn’t heard it. He had been sitting there enjoying the quiet and watching Dean hoping that his son would miraculously wake and that they all could all move from this holding pattern they were in.

“What do you want to discuss Sam?” John’s never took his eyes off Dean but his tone was guarded.

“Everything!” Sam threw his arms in the air as if that single gesture explained it all. “You can’t keep pushing it, me aside. You owe me that much.”

“I owe you?” John asked incredulously, his injured leg still giving him a slightly off balance look as rose to face his younger son who now stood on the opposite side of Dean’s bed. “I don’t owe you anything Sam. If anyone is owed something right now it’s Dean.”

“Damn straight and you can’t keep pretending that none of it happened; you/it raped Dean.”

“Do you honestly think I could forget something like that? God Sam I sit here day after day wondering what I could have done to stop this from happening. Look at him,” he growled staring down at Dean’s prone body. “Do you really think this is no big deal to me? Every time something goes wrong for Dean I blame myself. Every time I look at you I cringe knowing you got an eyeful of my body being used to fuck your brother. Do you really think that I would still be here if I didn’t love you two so much? Don’t you remember what I told you back in Chicago? You said I didn’t need to worry about you both but I said that I did because I’m your father. I will always be your father and I would be the first to tell you I’m not the greatest dad on the planet. I know that I’ve let you both down in the past and I know that there were times when you felt cut loose. I know I didn’t return your calls when Dean was hurt by that Rawhead nor did I return Dean’s call from Lawrence. I’m sorry but at the time I thought I was protecting you because I love you. That’s what it is all about Sam; loving you enough to care what happens to you.

Sam’s voice was shrill as he hit back at John, “Well you have a funny way of showing support Dad. Caring wasn’t a word I used when Dean was dying and I was surprised to hear that Dean called you from Lawrence, he never told me that before…” Sam sounded defeated as he realized how hard it must have been for Dean to go home and that made the news of his call to their Dad all the more poignant. “What good did any of it do Dad? We never saw you. You didn’t contact us unless it was to do a job. Not a lot of caring or love then and that was just a few months ago.” He bitterly remarked.

“Sam I had my reasons.”

“How many times have I heard that before…?”

“Damn it don’t use that tone with me. I had my reasons. I didn’t want you becoming targets for the Demon. Look what eventually happened, the Demon and his family killed people we cared about; Pastor Jim, Caleb, hell it did a pretty good job on us and if you hadn’t killed it I daresay Dean and I would be dead and you would be part of the evil son-of-a-bitch’s plan for whatever it had in mind. I told you before all this went sour that I wanted to stop losing the people we loved. Do you remember?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, he remembered. “You said you wanted me to go to school and for Dean to have a home, that you wanted Mom alive and for it all to be over. I remember. Well it’s over Dad but I still need to know.”

“Need to know what Sammy?”

“I need to know what happened, why it happened, was what the Demon said true, did you want Dean, have you done it before, will you do it again, did you enjoy it?” He threw his arms up in despair. There just seemed to be so much that needed to be addressed and Sam didn’t know where to start.

John felt cornered and angry. “What do you think happened Sam? You seem to have had plenty of time to consider all the answers? Come on college boy let’s hear your theories?”

“It happened because you were over-confident and thought you could run the whole show. If you hadn’t gone off on your own you wouldn’t have got caught and you wouldn’t have ended up possessed.”

“And you think I went out alone so I could be what a hero?”

“No I think you went off because you were always running our lives and you thought you knew best. If you spent less time ordering us around and more time talking to us you might get a better result from us and the jobs.”

“Dean doesn’t argue so why is it such a problem to you?”

“Well it didn’t do him any good,” Sam’s eyes flicked to his comatose brother. “At least I’m not the one lying on that bed having been raped and ravaged by my Demon possessed father. It seems standing up to you had some unexpected benefits.”

John was disgusted by Sam’s callous statement and shot back, “No you were the Demon’s chosen one. Not like he was ever going to harm you.”

“Fuck you. You think I wanted that. You think I liked having those visions and not being able to understand what they meant. I never asked to be his gifted child I only wanted to be your son. Clearly I disappointed you and the Demon because I have never been your favorite and even the Demon had a go at my so called psychic abilities and look at us all now…you’re mad, he’s dead and I’m two for two.”

“Sam I don’t play favorites The Demon told Dean you were my favorite but I love you both equally. How could I possibly choose? You are my sons; you are all I have left of your mother. Please don’t expect me to ever choose because I won’t.”

“But he is your good little soldier and I am the one who was told to never come home again. It seems to me that you did make a choice.” Sam’s voice was reaching fever pitch again as years of pent up emotion burst forth.

“Keep your voice down.” John ordered, fearing their arguing would bring in the staff.

“Why scared I’ll wake Dean?”

John stared dumbfounded at his youngest son and with his anger barely reigned in coldly replied, “If I didn’t know better I would almost think you were jealous Dean was getting so much attention.”

“Actually I am pissed you have decided to be such a good father after a lifetime of neglect.”

“I never neglected either of you. I love you.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it. Pinning us to a wall, making me watch while you stripped my brother, shoved your dick up his ass and fucked him until he bled and puked all over the floor.”

“Sam I. Didn’t. Do. That. The Demon did it **_not_** me.”

“What about what he said? All those things about not needing Dean and that Dean was just a substitute for Mom? Was that true?”

“God no Sammy! Dean is as important to me as you are. I need you both…”

“Yeah I saw how much you needed Dean.”

“Enough!”

“How does it feel knowing that he almost bled to death from being fucked?”

“Sam shut up. If you can’t talk sensibly about this we won’t talk at all.”

“That’s it shut me down. God forbid I express myself. Can’t ever challenge Dad! Dean never did and you still screwed him literally so what’ve I got to lose?”

“You’re acting like a child. Grow up and we will talk but not now. Not while you are being so stupid.”

“Yes now. Tell me did you want to do that to Dean?”

“Oh for god’s sake!” John realized this was one conversation that would not go away because he wanted it to. Better to jump in with both feet and finish it before they both said things they would regret and the real loser here would be Dean when he woke to find that his brother and father could barely stand to be in the same room together. 

“Did you?” Sam pressed him for an answer.

“No!”

“Did you enjoy it? The Demon certainly got off on it.”

“Oh Sam I was trapped in my own body screaming for the Demon to stop. How could I enjoy doing that to anyone let alone my own flesh and blood?”

“Have you ever done it to Dean before? Have you ever touched him?” 

“Jesus Sammy. No!”

“Do you want to do that to me too?”

John heard the fear and uncertainty in his son’s voice and somewhat calmer replied, “No Sam. Never!”

“Do you want to do it to Dean again?”

“No. He is **_my_** son.”

“Because I swear if you ever lay so much as finger in the wrong place on him I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!” John’s anger reared again.

“About time I did. Maybe if I had threatened you the Demon wouldn’t have picked up on your hidden feelings for Dean.”

“I don’t have feelings for Dean other than those of a father for his son. Why do you believe the Demon Sam?”

“Demons say what’s inside you. They know what you think,” He shot back at his father.

“Oh and they never lie either,” challenged John his indignation rising at the fact that he couldn’t seem to make Sam understand him. “Since when did you begin thinking that Demons are the good guys? That thing killed your mother and Jess. Do you honestly believe it was actually being kind to you by telling you what was supposedly my inner most secrets? Jesus Sammy wake up to yourself. Your anger is not about what the Demon did; it’s about me and how lousy a father you think I’ve been.”

A direct hit, thought John as Sam winced at his comment.

“Well if you had spent less time drinking and more time with us we wouldn’t be standing here now.”

“Sam I didn’t drink as much as you think. Certainly after your mother died I did and I don’t deny I had my moments through the years but I wasn’t some drunk on a park bench. I’m sorry that you remember things differently. Maybe you should ask Dean what he remembers. Bottom line son is that I did the best I could.”

“Well shit that’s not saying much.”

“Watch your mouth! I’ve just about had your attitude.”

“No you shut the fuck up and listen to me for a change.”

“Funny that’s what I thought I was doing but it seems to me you’re the one who’s not listening.”

Sam ignored the jibe and pointed to Dean, “He is here because you had an obsession.”

“No he is here because we got caught and the Demon liked that Dean challenged him. He wanted to see how much it would take to break him.”

“And you know this how?”

“Possessed remember.” John rolled his eyes tired of the whole argument.

Sam looked a little sheepish. He felt like he was just ranting and not really saying anything. “Look how do we deal with this?” he asked wearily. “How do we help Dean when you raped him, I saw it and he suffered it? It’s not like we can get professional help. This is something we have to do as a family but that’s something we don’t do. We don’t talk about what’s on our minds and we never share our feelings and hell Dean is the worst of the three of us but then he learnt from the best didn’t he.” Sam stared at his father, daring him to challenge the fact.

“Well for a start stop blaming me for all of this. It happened and we can’t change it. We knew it would be dangerous and we went in with our eyes open. Dean’s twenty-seven years old, he isn’t a child nor are you. Either of you could have walked away…”

“What a load of shit! I did walk away to go to college remember and you told me never to come back. Most parents would have been so proud by what I had achieved but not you. You’d think I had just robbed a bank and been sent to jail. Walk away my ass. How does Dean walk away Dad? What life does he know other than hunting? What choices has he had? No he was always going to be a victim in this and you were prepared to sacrifice him for the greater cause. Jeez even in the car before the truck hit you said I should have killed you because the Demon came before everything. Are you that fucking crazed by years of hunting that our lives became expendable where the Demon was concerned. I mean correct me if I am wrong but didn’t we go after this thing so that we could have a better life? Surely we didn’t spend all those years hunting to die doing it.”

John didn’t want to discuss this anymore, “I did what I did for you boys.”

“You did it for revenge.”

“I had no choice. I didn’t know if it would come back for us after your mother’s death. I had to protect you…”

“…and yet look what you ended up doing Dad.” Sam looked at Dean and the tears welled in his eyes.

“Damn it I love you. What do I need to do to prove it to you?”

“Don’t leave us again. Be there when we need you, that’s what matters. Do you have any idea how many times we said “I miss Dad” or “wish Dad was here”? Can you even imagine what it’s like to stand here day in and day out wondering if Dean will ever wake and whether you will be here long enough to even see it?”

John felt miserable. He had two wounded boys and he wanted to make it better for them both. Things weren’t going to change overnight he just needed to keep trying and maybe with time Sam would believe him. He hoped that was the case anyway. “I’m not going anywhere Sam.”

“Right I’ll believe that when it happens.”

“Sam my priorities are getting Dean well and being a family.” John went for the ‘look this is what I had in mind’ approach hoping that it might give his son some comfort. “Dean’s medical costs are not a problem, the health insurance covers that, so that frees up funds for other stuff. Initially we should look at getting a place nearby, so that Dean doesn’t have to travel too far to therapy. I mean we could stay at Bobby’s but I really don’t think Dean needs to recover under the eyes of, well he’s not a stranger but someone who wasn’t there with us that night. Anyway we need to get my car back from Lincoln and eventually fix the Impala. You know how Dean loves that car. Later when Dean’s stronger we can look at getting a place that suits us better, something we can call our own but definitely no more motel rooms.”

“Wait a minute, back up we have health insurance?” Sam asked confused by the sudden change in the conversation.

“Yes.”

“And you never told me?”

“No.”

“Why? How? You said you spent all our college savings.”

“I did but this was separate. Sam I’m a vet, I get medical cover, I just kept up cover for you and Dean because I thought one day we might need it and that day is now and everything is under control.”

“So why didn’t you tell us before?”

John shrugged, “Sam most times we hunt under assumed names, so it wouldn’t have been much use but this time we…”

“…used our own names.” The realization hit Sam hard. “You son-of-a-bitch you thought we would die?”

“No. I thought _I_ would die.”

“Wow, it never crossed my mind,” Sam admitted. “I just thought we’d kill it and then it would all be over. Shit.”

“I hoped you boys would survive and I wanted to leave you what I could and while health insurance isn’t much but I thought it would help you out if things went pear shaped and well…they did.”

“So I’m not going to come in here tomorrow and find Dean unhooked and propped up in the hall because we can’t pay the bill?”

“No. Has that been worrying you Sam, because everything is fine?”

Sam looked stunned. “Hell.”

“Yes.”

A look of dread flashed across Sam’s face. It was if all his fears and concerns were given permission to surface and he needed to deal with them all at once. “Dad what about Dean? 

“What about Dean?” John asked confused by the question.

“The shape-shifter incident; he’s wanted for murder,” Sam whispered. “Dean was legally declared dead.”

“Oh that.”

“Yeah that.” 

“Took care of it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sam do you really think that considering the way we came in here and the fact that the authorities were called in, that there wouldn’t have been a records check done before now? Hell Dean would have been under police guard within hours or at the least someone would have been here challenging his identity. Dean’s safe Sam.” _He’s safe from the authorities but not from his injuries,_ John thought sadly. “Trust me, he’s safe. I know this guy who’s a friend of some guy who has access to…look I had the records amended to reflect that the man found dead in St. Louis was not Dean Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas but Denis Wincher, who was originally from Lawrence, Maryland. The report states that the DNA found at the crime scene was retested because the first results were contaminated and that the new results were conclusive, Mr. Wincher, was the culprit. Dean is in the clear and since Mr. Wincher was cremated there is nothing further to test. Everything is fixed and fine.”

This was exactly the sort of thing that made Sam furious with his father. The man meant well, Sam had no doubt about that but his father just had no people skills. “You are unbelievable. When did this happen?” 

“Not long after you left the state actually. I needed to move quickly.”

“And you never thought that maybe you should have told Dean? How do you think he feels thinking he had no identity all this time? As far as he’s concerned he doesn’t exist anymore.”

“He told you it bothered him?” John was surprised because he simply couldn’t imagine his older son being that open as to express his disappointment or fear or whatever that he didn’t legally exist. It just wasn’t Dean’s way.

“No Dad, has Dean ever admitted anything bothered him? Hell the most I ever got out of him was a month ago when he told me he wanted us to be a family again and that when he was a boy he wanted to be a fireman.”

“Yeah I heard you mention the fireman thing a while back. Never knew that but it makes sense. A little boy watches his home on fire and he knows his Mommy died in it. Becoming a fireman and saving people would be a logical choice I guess.”

“Dad you should have told him it was fixed.”

“Sam I…”

“No don’t say you were trying to protect us because now when he wakes up he not only has to deal with the rape and all the stuff from that night but also from being in a coma and almost dying and now we need to tell him he isn’t dead well legally anyway and that you want to play happy families. Jeez are you trying to kill him? Don’t you dare let him down!”

“Sam stop it!”

“Seriously Dad it’s a lot for him to adjust to and I don’t want him afraid that you might hurt him again or worse you change your mind and just up and leave. He wouldn’t survive it and he doesn’t have to tell me that, I know it.”

“I am staying put and I have no intention of harming Dean or you. Sammy have you ever wondered what I would like out of life now that the Demon is gone?”

Sam shook his head.

“I have dreams too Sam, ones that I didn’t dare air while that thing was on the loose but now I can make plans. I want us to have a home in a place that we all like. While I know Dean really wants a home I also know that he needs more than that and we will need to help him find his own dreams. I want you to go back to college. Maybe not Stanford but somewhere near where we set up house. Maybe I could start up a garage again like the one I had before your mother died.” John paused briefly thinking about their future. “I still want to hunt occasionally because now that I know what is out there in the dark I want to destroy it but not every day. I won’t forfeit everything for others anymore. We/I need to put hunting in perspective and since the Demon is gone I can afford to dream of a life where death happens in old age and not at the hands of some supernatural being.” John seemed lost in his thoughts. 

“Look I am fifty-two years old, I have two adult sons and no home. I fought in Vietnam, did six years in the marines, got out started a business and married your Mom. By the time Mary died and I had two little boys and a handful of ashes for the life that went before. Heck I know am not the greatest Dad out there but I did what I could for you. I fucked up sometimes I know that but I am not so old and nor are you that I can’t try to make amends if you will let me. Let’s see if we can’t try and create a future. Sammy you and I need to get past all this shit or Dean won’t ever be able to let go of it either and it will kill him. We owe him for everything he has forfeited for us don’t you think?” 

“Yeah he has always looked out for me but Dad I don’t know if we can do all that.”

“Sam it’s not going to just fall into place we will have to work at it. I know life isn’t that easy but if I don’t try then it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. All I’m asking is that you share it with us.”

Sam looked at his father as if trying to read his mind before answering, “Alright but if I ever find out that what the Demon said was even partially true I will kill you.”

John sighed obviously the possession incident was not going to fade away into the background. “Sammy we need to come to an understanding here. Dean may need help, intimate help and I am not talking sex here. I mean he may need help with the bathroom and bathing. I am going to have to touch him and you might too. Can you do that son? He’s going to be embarrassed enough by his disabilities if even a quarter of what the doc told us happens and he will rely on us to be strong. I have to know that you can be there for him and not fight with me if I am there doing things to help him. You have to be able to tell the difference between me caring for Dean and me abusing him. Do you think you can do that Sammy?”

Sam nodded. “I just want him well Dad. I have to put Dean first.”

“I want that too Sammy.” 

They stood in silence each lost in their own thoughts as they looked at Dean who lay between them stubbornly clinging to life.

John took a deep breath not sure how to ask what he needed to know. “Sam do you…?” He wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “Has Dean ever…?”

“What?” Sam was confused by his father’s nervousness.

“Oh hell has Dean ever been with a man?” There he’d said it.

“What other than you, you mean.”

John glared at his son. “Is Dean bisexual or gay?” He asked undeterred by the comment.

“Well if Dean never told you then it’s none of your business,” Sam replied calmly. “Anyway its neither here nor there what his preference is, rape is rape. Doesn’t matter if he is straight, gay, bi or celibate. What happened was against his will.”

“You’re right…I just thought that if he had been with men…he would at least understand anal…” John’s voice trailed off. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to harness his thoughts, “Look you and I both know that you rarely hear about a man being raped. So if Dean has never had a sexual experience with a man then…well he’s really out of his depth.”

Sam finally understood what his father was saying, “I think we’re all in uncharted territory here Dad. Look Dean and I don’t discuss his preferences or conquests…not in depth anyway. I’ve seen him chase the girls but I’m not always with him twenty-four hours a day. Women gravitate to him but I’ve also seen how guys look at him but he has never mentioned to me ever being with a man but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t, it just means he never told me. He’s just a typical guy who spends a lot of time thinking with his small head and as far as I’m concerned what he does with it is his business.”

John chuckled. “You’re right son and that does sound like Dean. Sammy there’s going to be tough times ahead. Can you cope with what he may go through?”

“He’s my brother.”

“He’s also a rape victim that has no-one other than his attacker and the witness to talk to. Not an enviable position for any of us. I have to know we stand together on this to help him. You might be afraid that I will leave but I need to know that you will stay around too. None of this “I’ll stay until he is strong and then I am off to start my own life. He has to be part of your everyday life Sammy and I would like that to. Don’t shut us out and don’t abandon Dean because he needs both of us.”

Sam thought carefully before answering, “Look I can’t tell you that I am one hundred percent happy with our talk here Dad …hell!” He felt so frustrated by all of it. “Dad I want to believe you about the demon, the future, everything, I really do but you have let us down before and while I could get over you doing a cut and run Dean couldn’t. After all this he simply wouldn’t be strong enough. I almost lost him in Nebraska and again at the cabin and I don’t want to risk losing him again because you screwed with his head and his heart. So while I don’t know what I want from life right now I’ll stay and I guess I’d like to see us try and make a go of things. Just give me time Dad because it’s a huge change in our lives ok?”

“Fair enough son. I want this to work Sammy. I want us to make a future but I need your help to do it.”

“You have it,” Sam replied as he extended his hand to his father. They shook on the future both a little nervous but at least they had made a start. 

“So we really will be a family. Shit! The Winchesters! Sounds pretty cool.” Sam started to laugh and John couldn’t hide his smile as he held his son’s hand.

A gasp made them look down and what they saw excited yet terrified them. 

“Dean?” they said as one. 

Dean’s eyes were open and although they were slightly unfocused he was clearly awake. His right hand was clutching the sheet and his left one on his chest was clawing for purchase as he struggled to breathe on his own around the tube inserted into his lungs. 

John hit the emergency call button and while he waited for help he tried to get Dean to relax. Not an easy task considering how distressed Dean seemed to be. The heart monitor was beeping wildly and John was terrified Dean’s heart would give out under the strain.

“Sam get help now.” He ordered his younger son while he vainly tried to help his older one. “Dean its Dad you’re in the hospital.” A pair of terrified green eyes looked at him clearly begging for help. John held Dean’s hands and desperately tried to calm him. “Shhh it’s alright Dean. The doctor’s coming. We’ve got you. Don’t be afraid. You’re going to be fine son.”

The Dean was becoming more frantic and John knew that whatever had happened, Dean was clearly not getting enough oxygen and he knew how bad that was.

A team of medical staff, including Nurse O’Brien, burst through the door with Sam in their wake. Between them they checked the monitors, set up a tray to remove the tube, prepared a variety of medications for whatever and then waited. 

“He can’t breathe,” John shouted. “Take the tube out.”

“John you are not helping Dean by being upset yourself.” Nurse O’Brien calmly explained. “He has enough air he just needs to calm down enough to get it. Dean love, look at me.” Two very frightened eyes turned towards the portly woman. “That’s the boy, now we will take the tube out but the doctor has to do it.” Dean tried to shake his head. “Dean he is on his way but you need to settle down. Listen to the machine, hear it? In and out, it’s giving you all the oxygen you need. Don’t fight the machine sweetie. Listen to the sounds…in and out…” Dean seemed to relax a little but then he lost the rhythm and he was gasping once more.

“Do something,” Sam yelled as he watched his brother fight to breathe.

Dean scrunched his eyes shut and began arching his neck, forcing his head back fighting for air. “Dean look at me! Open your eyes and look at me. I won’t let you die honey but you have to trust me when I tell you the machine is working. It’s helping you, so let it do its job. That’s it love in and out. Don’t fight it, see you’re fine. There we go…in and out, in and out. You keep looking at me and you listen…in and out. That’s it. Shhh. Calm down. You’re safe.”

It was obvious Dean was barely coping and while Nurse O’Brien was able to keep him calm at the moment, they all knew that his distress could set him off again. That much was evident when Dr Jessop entered the quiet room.

“So our boy has woken up? Well. Well.”

That’s all it took for the balance to tip in the direction of fear and panic. The gagging started again but this time Nurse O’Brien didn’t try to pacify Dean.

“Dr Jessop Dean is awake and responsive, heart rate is erratic, oxygen stats are fluctuating and he has head lift and arch and is trying to breathe on his own.”

“Alright Dean we’re going to take the tube out now. We’ll have it out before you know it. Ok nurse suction,” Nurse O’Brien handed the doctor a suction tube which he placed in Dean’s mouth. 

“Shhh Dean,” Nurse O’Brien cooed as the doctor cleared Dean’s throat and mouth with the suction tube before removing the tapes from around the ventilator tube. “Won’t be long sweetie. Almost done. You listen to that machine now, in and out.”

“Right a hundred percent oxygen.” The oxygen was increased as ordered. “Dean I know you are upset by all this but I need you to listen to me. I want you to take a breath, breathe it out when I tell you to and as you do I will take out the tube. Ok Dean now! In and breathe out!” 

The doctor quickly removed the tube and Nurse O’Brien placed an oxygen mask over Dean’s mouth and nose. “There you go sweetie. All done.” She soothed as she tried to calm the young man. “Slow breaths now. Try and relax.” 

“Well Mr. Winchester it would seem your son has beaten the odds. Twenty five days and he wakes. That’s impressive. Now we should discuss…”

“Doctor!”

Nurse O’Brien’s call startled them all. John watched paralyzed with fear as Dean once more struggled to breathe. He saw Dr Jessop tilt Dean’s head back and Nurse O’Brien held the mask on his face.

“Oxygen on full,” she stated.

“What’s wrong?” John was yelling to the doctor who ignored the man to concentrate on his patient.

Dr Jessop coolly announced, “Someone watch the time we have four minutes max.” 

“Dad?” Sam was just as worried as his father.

“I don’t know Sam. I don’t know.”

Dr Jessop checked Dean’s lungs with a stethoscope, “Lungs sound clear.” 

“Stridor present.” One of the medical team reported.

“Suction!” Demanded the doctor.

“Two minutes doctor do you what to intubation again?”

“Not yet, use the bag, we need positive pressure.”

An airbag replaced the oxygen mask and the nurse squeezed the bag trying to force air into Dean’s lungs. “No change”

“He’s cyanotic.” 

John noted the blue tinge to Dean’s skin and he knew that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Two and half minutes doctor…”

“He’s seizing!”

Any further comments were interrupted by Dean having a seizure. John and Sam had seen it happen once before and it unnerved them then but at least last time Dean was in a coma and could breathe. This time he was seizing because he couldn’t breathe. So there they stood unable to do anything except watch Dean convulse on the bed.

“Two milligrams of Ativan.” Dr Jessop ordered.

“It’s easing off.” Someone reported.

“Get the oxygen back on him.”

“Three minutes and half minutes doctor.”

And suddenly there was silence. No desperate gasps, no fits, no frenetic activity. Just blessed silence and Dean barely awake but breathing normally.

“Ok keep the oxygen at one hundred percent for a while and fifteen minute neurological obs. Any changes notify me immediately.”

John ran a hand over his face and demanded of anyone who cared to answer, “What the hell just happened?”

“John, Sam come with me please.” Doctor Jessop said as he headed for the door.

“No I need to be with my son.” John stood firm.

“John, Dean is partially awake please come outside so that we can talk.”

 _Ok,_ John thought. _He doesn’t want Dean to hear. That makes sense._ So they followed him into the corridor.

The normally unflappable Dr Jessop looked a little rattled and John felt somewhat pleased that Dean had managed to put the wind up the man. “Well Dean is out of the coma,” Dr Jessop proudly announced.

“And he almost choked to death. Why?” John wanted answers and then he wanted to return to Dean.

“He has had what we call a laryngospasm which is a rare side effect of extubation.”

Sam didn’t have time to consult a medical dictionary. Surely the man could translate it for them. “It’s what? Plain English here doc please.” 

“It’s an obstruction of the airway due a spasm of the laryngeal chords, the vocal chords. Look his throat swelled up so he couldn’t get air in.”

“Why?” They both asked.

“It happens rarely but it does happen and could be caused any number of reasons but the results are the same; his body was starved of oxygen, he started to turn blue that’s cyanosis, he developed hypoxia which led to the seizure. We administered a muscle relaxant which stopped the spasms in his throat and Dean is now resting peacefully. We will watch him closely over the next few days but if his oxygen levels stay steady then he won’t need to be intubated again. The good thing is Dean is out of his coma…”

“But?” After almost a month John knew Dr Jessop’s tones and this particular tone was always accompanied by a very large ‘but.’

“But as we discussed a few days ago the longer the coma the more likely Dean might have some difficulty or disability. Hopefully though if he does have any issues then they will be temporary. I am more concerned that the lack of oxygen coupled with the seizure may have caused him some problems so we will be monitoring him very closely in the coming days.”

Both the men bombarded Dr Jessop, “Can we talk to him?” “Will he know us?” 

“Mr. Winchester, Sam physically talking may be a problem for Dean at first because we just gave him a muscle relaxant and he hasn’t spoken in almost a month. Also we don’t know whether any of his health problems have impacted on him mentally or physically. Give him time. He won’t stay awake much initially so try to be there when he is awake to reassure him. It’s very important that he doesn’t feel alone, especially if he is struggling to communicate. Gentlemen he’s not out of the woods yet but this is an excellent development despite the little setback.”

“Ok that’s good. Thanks Doc. Come on Dad.” Sam said as he headed back to Dean’s room.

“Thanks Dr Jessop,” John shook the man’s hand before following Sam back into Dean’s room.

************************

As John followed Sam into the room he heard Nurse O’Brien quietly talking to Dean and watched as she gently caressed his forehead. “How’s he doing?” John asked part excited and part fearful that Dean would be frightened of him. 

A pair of sleepy eyes tried to focus on him.

“Oh a little worse for wear aren’t you sweetie? Bit of shock that was. Alright me lovely your Dad and brother are here now to keep an eye on you.” She gave Dean a gentle smile and a pat on the shoulder. Turning to John she said, “We will be in and out so don’t mind us. Can I get you both a cuppa?”

John smiled his appreciation. “That would be nice. Thanks.” 

“Do you need a hand?” asked Sam. He suddenly felt odd being in the room. Dean never liked a fuss so Sam was trying to act as if it was an everyday event seeing his big brother lying in a hospital bed.

“No you sit here and talk to Dean. I’ll manage just fine.”

John sat down next to Dean’s bed and tenderly stroked his son’s head hoping that Dean wouldn’t be afraid of him. He needn’t have worried. Dean was barely conscious and if anything seemed to welcome his father’s touch. “Hey there kiddo? Welcome back.”

Dean tried to focus but it was all too hard. Sam gently held his brothers hand. “Dean, man it’s good to have you back. I missed you big brother.”

They could see how hard Dean tried to stay awake but this time neither of them minded when he fell asleep because they knew he would wake up again later. John still didn’t believe in miracles but he did believe in Dean and for the first time in a month he began to trust that there would be a future for the three of them.

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 5** \- _We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope._

It had been one very long month for John and Sam as they sat with Dean, day after day, while he lay in a coma. They had talked to him, comforted him and held his hand so that he would know that they were there. All they had wanted for was for him to wake up and then everything would be all right; except when he woke up nothing really changed. So they continued to wait and hope and…

Three days earlier…

“He’s in what we call in a post-traumatic amnesic state,” Dr Jessop almost gleefully explained as if this was something they already knew.

It sounded bad to John and Sam but Dr Jessop was reveling in his medical jargon and didn’t even try to lessen their concern. Admittedly they didn’t want sugar coated assurances but they needed hope and the good Doctor always seemed to know how to pull the rug out from underneath them when they most need something to hold on to.

“As I keep saying gentlemen this is not Hollywood,” Dr Jessop stressed. “People don’t just wake up after a month in a coma and leave hospital, have a steak dinner and go to a ball game. Their brains and their bodies need to adjust to what has happened to them and waking from the coma is the first step. Being lucid, articulate and coordinated may take a little longer.”

While John had always prided himself in his ability to wait out a situation he had discovered that having a son in a coma had sorely tested his patience. “How much longer?” he demanded.

“Mr. Winchester this is a stage of recovery. It is a good thing and hopefully Dean will come to a full level of consciousness soon.”

John tried again, “So what are we talking about here doc? An hour? A day? How long?” 

“The simple answer is I don’t know. No-one would. There are no hard and fast rules here but the odds are that Dean will take a while to be fully awake and functioning independently considering his injuries and various complications. You should be prepared for the worst.”

Sam sighed loudly. Not for the first time he felt frustrated that he had had certain unusual (insert psychic) abilities yet now when he most needed them they had deserted him…oh how he wished he could read the doctor’s mind instead of having to drag every last piece of information from the man. “And what is the worst?” He asked arms folded across his chest, posture clearly defensive.

“Weeks maybe longer!” Dr Jessop announced matter-of-factly.

“Weeks!” Sam all but shouted at the man. “He just woke up and now you tell us that he might not actually be awake.”

“Oh he’s awake he’s just not with it enough to talk.”

“So he isn’t able hold a conversation but he is aware of everything around him?” John asked. Like Sam he was near the end of his tether. He very calmly and very slowly asked, “So can you please tell us in plain, simple terms what is wrong with Dean now?”

“Yes he is aware of things around him but his brain isn’t translating that into real meaning. For instance he may sense that someone is in the room but he may not be able to work out that’s it you.”

“Huh?” John grunted.

“Let me explain. Being in a coma has many problems which we have discussed before and coming out of coma also has problems. Some problems are obvious from the start, poor coordination, speech problems, psychological issues and others may develop months from now we just don’t know if that will happen to Dean or not. Each patient is an individual and so we roughly know what might happen but we have to deal with a patient’s needs as they arise. Mr. Winchester there are many levels to being in and out of a coma and many influences that might affect recovery. This means we have to wait and watch and see what happens.”

John and Sam blinked hard at the doctor, eyebrows raised in amazement as they tried to understand the implications of it all while listening once again to Dr No Brains No Feeling prattle on about Dean’s condition. The man seriously needed a lesson or two in how to give bad news to worried kin.

“So Dean might be like this for weeks just like before?” Sam really couldn’t see the difference between the coma and Dean’s current situation.

“Not exactly Sam. Your brother has been through a lot and his body will naturally compensate by making him sleep and patients like Dean who wake from a coma after a few weeks will have times when they are only partially awake. However they may also have times when they are confused as to where they are or why they are here. They may have short term memory problems so they might not recognize you or they will know you one day and not the next. They may not remember what day or time it is but they could tell you something seemingly insignificant that happened to them years ago. Dean may have periods where he is afraid or may become verbally or even physically aggressive, he may be depressed, listless or agitated. He may suffer from low self-esteem or exhibit uninhibited or childish behavior and he may deny that he even needs to be here. Believe me it is not unheard of for a patient recovering from a coma to wander about the hospital if they are physically capable. So we will see how things go and will deal with any problems accordingly.” 

For once Dr Jessop actually noted the stunned and disappointed faces in front of him and sighed. He really hated these talks and he especially hated them with these two. Every day was a challenge with the Winchesters. Between the one who should have died and didn’t, to the two who always looked like they wanted to beat him to death because the other wasn’t hanging from the chandeliers quick enough he wished he was anywhere but here. These Winchesters were scary folk.

So he tried a different approach and put on what he thought was his best 'give hope to the families' face. “Look I can’t tell you how Dean will progress so we will all have to be patient. I mean the poor boy has suffered a great deal; you simply must give him time to come terms with it all.” 

Obviously Dr Jessop’s game face didn’t work because John pierced him with his best ‘I am so going to chew you up and spit you out if my son doesn’t start to improve right now!’ glare. 

Oh yes Dr Jessop hated these talks. If they only knew how much he wanted to be able to discharge Dean but he also knew that Dean had an uphill battle ahead of him both physically and mentally. So unfortunately that meant that Dr Jessop and the Winchesters were going to have a lot more of these dreaded talks in the weeks ahead.

*****************************************

 **Chapter 6** \- _Waking Up Is Hard To Do._

“So…” said Sam.

“Yeah…” said John.

Sam adjusted the bed covers around Dean. “He sleeps a lot doesn’t he?” 

“He needs to!” John replied as he gently stroked the back of Dean’s hand.

Their conversation was stilted. Not so much because they had nothing to say but because unlike a few weeks ago when they were encouraged to talk to Dean, now that he wasn’t in a coma they were told to be quiet and let him sleep. So it made their visits painfully long with little to do but look at Dean while he slept away the hours.

“I miss him. You know it just doesn’t seem the same without him with us does it?” 

“Yeah,” John agreed wistfully. John had lived for his boys and now he felt like he was barely hanging on to one of them. It was like when Sam left for college. He felt torn apart and empty except this time if Dean left them there would be no chance of reconciliation. Death was sort of permanent. 

“Do you ever just want to shake him awake?” Sam whispered. “I just want to talk to him you know?”

John did know but instead replied in his best parent voice, “As much as I would love to have Dean awake, he needs the rest Sam. It’s hard I know but we need to let him sleep.

Sam pushed a few long strands of hair off Dean’s forehead. “His hair’s getting long. He won’t like it, especially that buzz cut on one side.” He began to card his fingers through Dean’s unruly hair.

“Don’t wake him Sammy,” John warned. 

“Well you’re rubbing his hand!” Sam shot back.

“Fine!” John let go of Dean’s hand. “Happy now?”

Sam knew he was acting like a jealous brat but seeing Dean so still was really getting to him. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok son. I do understand how you feel. This is tough. Listen why don’t you go get us something to eat? I’ll stay here in case Dean wakes up.”

“You sure?” Sam was feeling pent up and really needed some time out.

“Yeah. Go on, go get some fresh air,” John suggested. They were still living out of a motel room located not too far from the hospital so meals were always grabbed on the go as they travelled between their temporary home and the hospital. “Neither Dean nor I are going anywhere anytime soon so take your time.”

John couldn’t offer much to Sam except time to think and if that meant half an hour by himself while he ordered some food then John would let him have the time. Things weren’t great with Sam and him but they weren’t impossible either so John tried to make sure his younger son felt just as loved as his older brother was. 

Sam nodded his thanks. “Back soon”

“Take your time.”

John heard the door to Dean’s room close and sat back thinking about everything while he watched his son sleep. It had been seventy-two hours since Dean’s miraculous awakening and it struck John as incongruous that after almost a month in coma so little seemed to have changed for his son now that he was actually out of the coma. Certainly the surprise of Dean waking up had been somewhat tarnished by his frantic attempts to actually breathe on his own but once that problem had been resolved they all sat and back and waited to see how Dean was and then they waited and…you see while Dean wasn’t technically in a coma he did spend more time asleep than awake and when awake he barely seemed to realized he was awake; so very little had changed in four weeks.

John also thought about Dr Jessop and how much he had begun to dislike the man despite him keeping Dean alive. _Patronizing bastard!_ The last monumental discussion they had with him about Dean’s progress had almost ended with John knocking the man into a wall and Sammy trying to use telekinesis to throw him through a window. They knew Dean was struggling but they certainly didn’t need to be told Dean needed time to heal. Damn it they had spent the last month being there for Dean, waiting for the day when he would wake and then when he had woken all they got was a lecture on patience and a reminder that instant cures were the stuff of movies, as if they didn’t know that already. John could so understand Sam’s frustration and hurt as he lived it every minute of every day himself. 

Rationally John understood what Doctor Jessop had tried to explain about Dean’s situation but on a personal level he just wished Dean was awake so that he could talk to him. Of course talking meant that they would have to have that talk…the one about what happened the night of the accident. Still John also knew that he would rather have the talk than face a lifetime with his son in a coma or worse without Dean in his life at all. 

John rested back in the chair, adjusted his sling and stretched his almost healed leg. He knew that he really should’ve gone with Sam, if for nothing else than to see the sky and breathe fresh air but like Sam he just needed some time to himself. He had always been a man of action and a month of hurry up and wait had left him tired and bitter. So here he was all alone with a very asleep Dean while he desperately fought the urge to poke his son to see if he would wake up. 

He chuckled to himself as he realized some things never changed. Here he was telling Sammy to behave and not disturb his brother when all he wanted was to do the exact same thing. He was always in trouble from Mary for poking Dean when he was a baby. He was so fascinated by the tiny boy; it amazed him that he and Mary had made such a perfect little person and oh how John loved him, still loves him. He spent endless hours watching him sleep and when he thought Mary wasn’t looking he would gently poke the sleeping baby, hoping to wake him. Of course when he did wake, John would tell Mary that the baby woke up and naturally he just had to pick him up and comfort him. Now twenty seven years later John still wanted to poke his eldest son although he doubted that Dean would let him hold him, particularly after recent events but still a little chat wouldn’t go astray he mused. He could fill the boy in on what had happened while he was in a coma, they could talk about the future and even discuss that which they probably both wished had never happened. 

Still hearing Dean speak would make John’s day but according to Doctor Killjoy Dean wasn’t going to just wake up and start talking like nothing had happened. Nonetheless despite that minor problem John desperately wanted to speak to his son so he looked around checking that no-one as watching, which of course they weren’t because it was just the two of them in the room and surreptitiously poked his son’s arm. 

No reaction. 

He tried again, a little harder this time. 

Still no response.

He sighed loudly, obviously adult Dean needed a little more than a poke in the arm to wake up but John also knew that neither the staff nor Dean would appreciate it if he shook his son awake just so he could ask him how he was feeling and if he was mad with his father over the whole “taste the iron in your blood” thing and of course that not so insignificant matter of the rape. However, Dean was obviously being stubborn and intended to stay asleep irrespective of John’s pokes, so John sat back in the chair to wallow in his frustration and boredom. 

He tried to get comfortable but his leg felt stiff and no amount of wriggling seemed to ease it. In the end he stood up, got his balance and with a final look at Dean to ensure he was still sound asleep, headed out into the corridor to exercise his healing leg before Sam returned. He smiled at the nurses, acknowledged their polite enquiries about how Dean was this morning, even though they probably already knew since they looked after him around the clock and continued to walk albeit with a stiff leg until he saw Sam exit the lift.

“You okay?” Sam asked surprised to see his father out and about.

“Leg’s stiff.”

Sam looked uneasy, “Sorry about that.”

John shrugged, “Had to be done,” he replied. Of course that translated into _you shot me but hey I told you to anyway so forget it._ He didn’t blame Sam for how it all went down that night. They had argued that through a while back and it was no point in dragging it all back up again. The Demon was dead, John was alive and Dean was…well Dean was getting there slowly, by degrees.

John turned and looked down the corridor head cocked to one side as he thought he heard…he could have sworn…he shook his head to clear it. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Thought I heard…ignore it,” He told Sam as they turned the corner heading towards Dean’s room. “I need sleep, I need food, and I need coffee…” 

“…You need to get laid.” The words were out of Sam’s mouth before he could stop them.

His father stopped walking and stared openmouthed at his youngest son. 

Sam’s eyes were wide but the words didn’t stop, “I mean it’s been a…” Sam giggled nervously. Somehow the Demon seemed saintly compared to how his father was currently looking at him. Sam wanted to disappear and quick.

“And since when have you felt the urge to discuss my sex life?”

“Well, you know…since the cabin…” he lamely offered..

“Samuel!” It was rare to hear to his full name and Sam knew he was on shaky ground. “Do you _really_ want to discuss sex with me right now?” His father’s voice was low and thunderous.

“Ah no,” Sam tentatively replied. 

“Good answer. This subject is now closed.” John wasn’t mad not really and he did enjoy watching Sam squirm but the thought of his son, his youngest son at that, discussing his sex life was seriously weird even in John Winchester’s screwed up world. “Sam…” he paused mid-sentence as he listened again for…

“What?” 

“You hear that? Someone called out _Dad_?”

“No but it could have been anyone. A lot of families are visiting here.”

As they neared Dean’s room they watched about a dozen people rush through the door and John had that sinking feeling all over again.

“Why does something happen every time I walk out of that room?” he grumbled.

Sam laughed which was kind of stupid considering something was obviously going on inside. “It’s not every time Dad,” he replied remembering all the times they had stood in Dean’s room when he had gone into heart failure, had a seizure, played zombies opening and closing his eyes while in a coma and generally had caused panic and pandemonium by simply being one very sick man.

They opened the door and as they pushed their way through the crowd John could hear the frantic cries, heartbreaking sobs, hoarse screams and plaintive pleas for “Dad” and “Daddy” and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened to Dean in the ten minutes he had been gone. When he finally reached the bed he was confronted by one very awake albeit terrified Dean who was unsuccessfully trying to escape from his bed, not an easy task considering the tubes, leads and drips not to mention one arm in a sling and a cast on his leg and an equally petrified doctor who was rapidly backing away from his obviously distressed patient.

“Dean calm down!” John ordered his distraught son who was desperately trying to clutch onto his father with his free hand. “What happened?” It was obvious from Dean’s state of panic that he wasn’t going to be able to tell him what had happened. “Shhh, it’s all right.” He assured him. If Dean couldn’t fight his own battles right now John was more than happy to do it for him. He turned to the source of the problem, the doctor and asked in his best marine voice, “Who the hell are you?” 

“Dr Deef, Dr Talbot’s assistant. You know Dr Talbot the neurosurgeon?”

“I know who Dr Talbot is but what are you doing here and why is my son upset?” 

“I was just coming to see how Dean was progressing and he became agitated when I tried to examine him.”

John looked at Dean and thought agitated was an understatement. He turned to speak to the doctor again but realized that all eyes were trained on his son. The last thing Dean needed was this sort of public spectacle.

Old habits die hard and John, seeing his son so upset, immediately went into full protective parent mode. “Okay everyone listen up!” He bellowed. “The Color Code applies to Dean so...”

He looked around at dozen pair of confused eyes. However Sam smiled knowing what was coming.

He sighed. Why were the simple things always so complicated he thought. “Let me put it another way. Is Dean bleeding?” 

A number of voices murmured “No.”

“Is he choking?”

A stronger chorus replied, “No.”

“Is he chucking?”

They all answered “No!”

“Right then no bleeding, that’s red, no choking that’s blue and no spewing that’s green. That’s what we call the Winchester red, blue and green code or more simply the Color Code. So if Dean is doing none of those things and unless you have an express reason to be in this room, then leave and leave quickly. Is that understood?”

Muttered acknowledgments were made as the group hastily filed out the door.

“You,” he pointed to the doctor. “You stay.”

The man nervously moved a little into the room but stopped when it was obvious Dean was becoming upset again.

“What did you do?” John demanded an answer. He just knew the guy had obviously done something to cause his normally “laugh in the face of death” son so much terror.

“Nothing!” The doctor held up both hands indicating he meant the young man no harm. “I never touched him. I just introduced myself and he started to scream.”

John felt Dean’s hand clutch his and he looked down at his son surprised to see naked fear in his eyes. He tried to ease Dean’s concerns but was at a loss as to what had set them off in the first place. Obviously this is the sort of thing Dr Jessop had talked about; confusion and anxiety in post coma patients. “Dean relax, he’s one of your doctors…”

“No!” Came the very hoarse reply. 

“Dean you’re in the hospital and he is a doctor…”

“…Angel!” Dean began coughing his voice weak from screaming and almost a month of disuse. “Angel!”

John quirked an eyebrow and wondered what Dean meant, “Here have a sip,” he said as he held a glass of water to Dean’s lips. “Now what’s the problem?”

“Angel of Death!” Dean gasped as he stared at the doctor. 

“Angel of what?” John looked at Sam hoping he could explain what Dean meant. Sam for his part just shrugged; he was just as confused by it all. 

“Angel of Death,” cried Dean again. 

John had to admit this was odd behavior. Still in their line of work anything was possible so if Dean thought the guy was the Angel of Death disguised then John would give his son the benefit of the doubt. He just knew that if Dean was upset there had to be a reason for it. 

“Ok let’s try this again,” John boomed at the young doctor. “Who are you?”

“Dr Angelo Deef…”

“Angel of Death,” Dean echoed. “Get ‘im!”

Then it hit John. Dean had been woken from a deep sleep and had misunderstood what the man had said. Somehow the logic fitted…Angelo Deef, Angel of Death. Yes made sense to John. _It’s incredibly sad that it does make sense,_ >he thought. I really need a new line of work. One where conversations don’t begin with the Angel of Death…

“Mr Winchester I fear your son has suffered some level of brain damage. The subdural hematoma obviously bled more than we thought. I think it best if Dean has a full medical and psychiatric.”

Standing to his full height John stalked, stiff leg be damned, towards the man. “My son will get a full evaluation but you won’t be on the team.”

“We’ll see what Dr Talbot has to say about that…”

“No need. You broke protocol. You’re off this case. If you had cared to read his chart which you obviously didn’t then you would know that you don’t just barge in here without knocking first and announcing who you are. While Dean has been unable to communicate too well he is out of a coma and he needs to know that he is safe for reasons that are clearly stated in his chart. My guess is asshole that you just burst in here and what woke him up?”

“Well he was asleep, yes but…”

“But nothing! Those procedures were set up by your hospital to ensure my son feels he has some control over his situation. You chose to undermine that process so you’re done here. You will not set foot in this room again. Dr Talbot is welcome to come here himself or send another doctor but one that we approve. So Dr Deef your time here is over, get out…now.”

The protocols that John mentioned had been established after consultation with a counselor. Not that John and Sam had sought the counselor’s help but Dr Jessop had suggested that she might be able to advise them on ways to help Dean come to terms with the rape now that he was awake. Of course it was all a moot point considering his Demon possessed father had raped him and almost bled him dry but they didn’t need to know all that.

The counselor had explained that because rape is about power and lack of control Dean needed to feel he had some control in his life. She said that Dean probably wouldn’t admit to being upset by what had happened but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel troubled by it. Being in hospital, confined to a bed, meant that he would feel vulnerable and he would be emotionally fragile for quite some time to come. So she suggested that a sign be put on Dean’s door stating “Knock First, Then Announce Yourself” that way Dean wouldn’t be startled by the sudden appearance of strangers in his room which might make him feel threatened. Also there were to be no random blood pressure checks, checking drips and meds or other touching without Dean’s permission. She said that people had to ask Dean if they could touch him because he needed to feel he had a say in what happened to him and his body. 

John was pleased by her suggestions and had thought them practical measures to help Dean yet in one foul swoop this young doctor and a gaggle of other staff had undermined the whole process. John was not a happy camper.

The doctor was equally unhappy to be yelled at by John and stood his ground despite being told to leave, “Who the hell are you to order me around,” the man challenged.

“I’m his father and the guy who will kick your ass from here to eternity if you don’t leave now.”

For a second the doctor thought about arguing but instead wisely turned to go. As he passed Sam John heard his younger son mutter “Christo.”

The doctor gave Sam a patented _what was that_ look before closing the door behind him.

“Just checking!” Sam grinned widely as he went to Dean’s side smiling at his brother but unsure as to what to say to him.

“The Angel of Death is not a demon Sam, Christo wouldn’t have worked,” John explained as we went to stand on the other side of the bed.

Sam shrugged, “Better to be safe than sorry.” He asked as he fussed with Dean’s bed clothes.

John nodded and turned his attention to Dean. “How are you doing son?”

“Dad?” Dean asked.

Before John could answer, a knock at the door interrupted their conversation as a cheery voice called out. “Dean its Nurse O’Brien honey just coming in with your meds.” She swept into the room smiling at all the Winchesters as she headed over to Dean. “Hello sunshine? I hear that doctor give you a bit of start?”

“Angel of Death,” Dean’s replied. 

“Well I’m the Angel of Mercy sweetie. Ok move back Dad and let me see our boy. Come on let’s settle you down a bit. Too much excitement for one day don’t you think?”

Dean watched her flit about fussing with the equipment and then asked shyly, “Are you weally?”

John quirked an eyebrow at Dean’s question, Sam muttered “What the fuck!” and Nurse O’Brien looked at her patient brow furrowed.

“Really what dear?”

“An angel.”

“Dean may I sit down next to you?”

He nodded his approval.

“Dean love do you know who I am?”

He nodded again.

“I told you yesterday didn’t I? You woke up but you didn’t talk. So I told you all about who I was. Do you remember?”

John and Sam exchanged worried looks as they saw Dean crinkle his brow as if trying to remember.

“Who am I sweetie?”

“Nurse.”

“Nurse who?”

“Bbbwien.” He stuttered slightly.

“Very good Dean,” Dean beamed at her. “O’Brien. That’s a hard name to say isn’t it?”

Dean nodded again.

“Why don’t you call me Mary? That’s my first name. Is that easier for you?”

“Mawy.”

“That’s it.”

He tugged her arm, “My Mummy’s name was Mawy.” He leant in close. “She died.”

Nurse O’Brien squeezed his hand. “Well your Dad and brother are here now and they will look after you. Now I want you to lay back and close those beautiful eyes and have a little nap. All that fussing would have made you a very tired. I’m just going to put this on you,” she placed the oxygen mask over his face. “I want you to keep that on. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded tiredly.

“Good because that will help you get better.”

She sat there for a few moments until she was certain he had drifted off to sleep before signaling for John and Sam to join her outside. Once in the corridor she steeled herself for the onslaught of questions that she knew would come her way.

“What the…what’s going…he’s…that’s not…?” They both started at the same time.

John carded his fingers through his hair as he paced. “I don’t understand.”

“John calm down. This isn’t good for your injured leg.”

“My leg is fine it’s my son who’s…who’s not.”

“I am going to get Dr Talbot down here and we will take it from there, now stop worrying. Go sit with Dean and make sure he doesn’t do anything silly like try to get out of bed.”

“But he’s asleep and he has a broken leg he’s not going anywhere in a hurry,” stated a somewhat stunned Sam.

She raised one eyebrow and shook her head. “He’s a child Sam; children even sick ones are very mischievous. Go watch your brother; keep him safe.”

The irony of the statement hit Sam hard as he remembered all the times Dean had been the one to keep him safe.

“Dad you coming?”

“Be there in a minute Sammy.” John kept pacing. “What just happened?” He asked Nurse O’Brien. “I thought, hoped, when he woke that he would be fine.”

“Dr Jessop did warn you he may be altered. Let’s see what his medical has to say now that we know what we are dealing with?”

“But Dean’s…he’s a child!” John exclaimed. “I remember that lisp. He couldn’t say “r” for the longest time and he stuttered slightly when he was upset for about a year or so after Mary died. Hell he hardly talked at all after her death. He just clung to me and watched over Sam. He was all of four going on forty with that cute little lisp. Jeez what do I do?”

“Take a deep breath and settle down. You’re no good to him if you are stressing. As for what to do, he’s your child John. You’ll know how to deal with him. Just treat him like you did when he was little and remember he’s a sick so don’t expect miracles. Now off you go.”

_Oh very funny you all tell me to hold out for a miracle and now he is awake you tell me to stop expecting miracles. I swear hunting was a breeze compared to this stuff._

John gave her a weary smile, “Dean was a handful as a kid you know. By the time he was six I could barely keep up with him but don’t get me wrong he was a good boy. I don’t know what I would have done without him he always seemed to know how to make me feel better. How do I help him now?”

“Just be there for him. You’re his Dad, he needs to know you are there and keep on your toes, that boy sick or not may well give you a run for your money, now scoot.”

John nodded and returned to Dean’s bedside. He sat heavily in the chair. “Things are going to get very interesting I think Sammy.”

“Yeah you can say that again.” Sam smiled wickedly. “You know I always wanted a little brother.”

John sighed. He just knew that mischief was in the air.

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 7** \- _You can be childlike without being childish. >_

__

It was a standoff.

Sam watched mesmerized from the sidelines as the situation escalated. 

It was John in his best marine stance, hands on hips, face set, faced off against one headstrong five year old, albeit in the body of a twenty-something year old man who was desperately clutching a teddy bear dressed as a fireman and despite the odds against him the five year old was winning.

It had started innocently enough…

The bear had been a “Get Well” gift from John and Sam when Dean was first in a coma. It was originally meant to be a joke; something fun for when he woke and they could remind him that he had wanted to be a firefighter when he grew up. Of course they had assumed that Dean would wake after a few days, see the bear and tell them what they could do with their gift. Back then everything had seemed so black and white but they had learned quickly enough that nothing about Dean’s recovery was going to be simple or fast. So here they were all these weeks later arguing, well John was arguing, Sam was just an interested spectator, over Dean letting go of the most precious thing he owned in the world, his fireman teddy bear. 

“Put the bear down Dean.” His father had matter-of-factly said as he removed Dean’s oxygen mask and set it on the wall clip. “Nurse O’Brien is going to be here soon to give you a bath and we need to get you organized.” 

John was looking for Dean’s toiletries in the bedside table drawers when he heard the indignant response.

“Fubar.” 

“Excuse me?” John straightened up, eyebrow arched in surprise and tone somewhat menacing. “What did you just say?” 

Sam smirked because it hadn’t taken John long to fall back into the, _Luke I am your Father_ routine. 

“Fubar.” Repeated Dean with a little less confidence this time.

“Say it again and you’ll get your mouth washed out with soap,” his less than impressed father informed him. “Now hand over the bear Dean. You can’t have a wash if you are holding it.” 

“It’s Fubar.” Dean was mad.

So was his father. “What did I tell you? Now give me the bear.” 

“Fubar!” Shouted Dean.

“That’s it sick or not you’re…” 

“Dad what are you going to do? Spank him” Sam asked.

“He has a name.” Dean screamed trying to stand his ground albeit from a hospital bed.

 _Right keep your cool Winchester. He’s just a kid. A very big kid but a kid nonetheless,_ John reminded himself. So counting backwards from ten, he reined in his temper, stood with hands clenched at his side and as calmly as possibly asked, “So Dean what’s the bear’s name?”

“Fubar.”

“Dean!” His father roared clearly feeling his big little boy was pushing the boundaries too far.

“Daddy?” Dean replied confused and not a little frightened by his father’s tone.

“Dad!” Sam warned, his tone clipped and threatening. It was the, _don’t hurt my sick little big brother or I will kick your parental ass_ tone.

John nodded. He wasn’t stupid, he understood what Sam was saying but it was Dean’s insistence that had him confused. So he took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and tried again. “Okay so tell me your bear’s name son?”

“Fubar. His name’s Fubar,” Dean replied. He clutched the bear closer, kissing its head affectionately.

John pursed his lips and stared at Dean then at the bear and back to Dean. “You called your bear Fubar?” 

A nod.

“Fubar?”

Another nod.

“Dean what does Fubar mean?” John asked, his arms folded across his chest waiting for some wisecracking answer that Dean was so good at giving; the type that usually earned his son a good clip on the ear for being smart-mouthed.

The boy looked at his father, brow furrowed in confusion. “Means nothing Daddy it’s just a name.” 

John rubbed a hand over his face. “So does Fubar…” he desperately tried not to laugh. “Does he have a first name?” 

“C.S.”

“C.S?” He repeated. _Only Dean ,_ he thought. _Only Dean would pick that._

“Yes.”

“And what does C.S. stand for Dean?” John wondered not for the first time why he liked to torture himself when he already knew the answer to the question.

Dean hugged the bear tightly and proudly announced. “Chawlie Siewwa Fubar bear.” 

_Of course it is,_ John thought wryly. 

“And you came up with this name all by yourself?”

“Sort of.,” Dean sheepishly replied.

“Sort of what Dean?” John asked casting a quick glance at Sam to see whether his younger son had a hand in this one….he was sure he did. It had his name all over it.

Sam merely shrugged; a _don’t blame me_ look plastered across his face.

 _Yeah right!_ John thought. That’d be the day!

“Wemember the fireman who talked to us when the house was on fire?” John vaguely remembered the fireman who questioned him about the fire all those years ago. “Well the man in charge, he called that fireman C.S.”

“You remember that?” John was amazed. 

Dean nodded.

John recalled being very guarded when he spoke to the young firefighter. After all he had just seen his wife, her stomach ripped open, pinned to the ceiling of their baby’s nursery and when he tried to save her the room burst into flames. Let’s face it there was no easy or sane way to tell that story. No John’s memory of that was obviously very different to Dean’s memory.

For his part Sam was astounded by all of it. The night Mom died was something he had been fundamentally connected to and yet had no memory of at all, he was simply too young. In fact it was only a few months ago that he had discovered that it had been Dean who carried him out of the fire and not his Dad. So Sam thrived on anything he could glean from their life before the fire or that fateful night.

“The man, the one in charge…”

“The Captain.” John prompted.

“Yes. He had called to the fireman, “Hey C.S.!” but the fireman was trying to fix the hoses, I think they were in a knot or something and he didn’t hear him. So the Captain yelled out again, “Fubar! Hey you! Do somefing useful; go to talk to the family” and he did and he was weally nice to me so I thought my bear should be called after him, C.S. Fubar.”

John grinned widely, “So how do you know what C.S. stands for Dean?” 

John could have sworn Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes. You always say C.S. stands for Chawlie Siewwa.” 

Sam was gob-smacked. Not by what Dean actually said but because in one simple sentence Sam now totally understood why his brother accepted everything their father said or did. His simple and honest admission that if Dad said it then it must be true was nothing short of a revelation to Sam. It was blind faith, unquestionable trust and absolute confidence that John knew what he was doing. Dean had always been that way with John and Sam realized he probably always would be.

It was there for all to see, Dean absolutely adored their father and Sam couldn’t help but wonder what the future would bring when Dean was himself again. How would his brother cope when he remembered that the one person he loved and cherished above anyone else had betrayed him? Of course it wasn’t John’s fault that things went so bad but rape was rape and all Dean saw that night was father’s body thrusting into him and he heard his father’s voice telling him his inner most secrets. If Dean ever recovered mentally there would be troubled times ahead Sam realized and arguing over a teddy bear today really would be just child’s play compared to what they might face tomorrow.

John’s voice cut into Sam’s reverie… 

“I do say don’t I?” John replied with a knowing smile. 

Dean nodded in agreement. “You say it all the time and everywhere we go you’re always yelling C.S. this or Chawlie Siewwa that. You must know a lot of people called C.S. I guess.” He shrugged as if it really didn’t need further explanation.

“Okay…so the bear,” he waved an arm towards the furry toy. “It’s called C.S. Fubar?” 

Dean nodded. “Chawlie Siewwa Fubar the fireman bear.”

“Right…ah…back in a minute.” John fled the room.

The sound of deep unfettered laughter filtered through the door and Dean and Sam looked at each other eyes wide in amazement.

“Where’s Dad gone?” Dean asked not sure what had just happened as he cuddled his bear tighter now that his father wasn’t there to protect him.

“Umm don’t know,” Sam lied, knowing full well where his father was and why he had shot out of the room out like a bat out of hell.

Dean took a deep breath and tried to sound brave, “It’s okay Sammy. Come and sit with me.” He tucked the bear inside his sling and held out his free hand, fingers beckoning, encouraging his younger brother to snuggle next to him. “Me and Fubar, we’ll look after you until Daddy gets back.” 

Sam couldn’t resist such an innocent invitation and he lay down on the bed next to Dean. “I missed you Dean,” he whispered as he rested his head against Dean’s shoulder and carefully put an arm across his brother’s chest.

“I’m right here Sammy. I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He rested his chin on Sam’s head. “Love you Sammy.” He said as he drifted to sleep.

“Love you too Dean.” Sam replied as he too closed his eyes and relaxed in his brother’s embrace. 

Sam missed being able to talk to Dean and he was just so relieved to have him back even if he wasn’t quite all there yet. Besides how often would Sam ever get to tell Dean he loved him or that he wanted to hug him? Echoes of old conversations about ‘no chick flick moments’ or ‘you’re such a girl’ were ringing in his mind but this younger Dean wanted those moments, so Sam was happy to indulge Dean and himself.

Meanwhile in the corridor, John leant against the wall hand braced across his stomach and chuckled heartily. It had been a long while since he had laughed so much and he was reveling in the whole conversation albeit at Dean’s expense. You see John had taught the boys the phonetic alphabet years ago when they were little and being ex-military, as were many of his hunter buddies, the boys had grown up on military slang and it would seem that despite regressing Dean hadn’t really forgotten any of it; he just forgot what it all meant in adult terms. 

John couldn’t help but laugh because Dean had named his bear, C.S. Fubar, which in slang speak translated into ‘chicken shit, fucked up beyond all repair.’ Priceless! More so because the night of the fire Dean had obviously seen a new fireman stuff up on the job, get told off and then get sent to talk to the family because he could do less damage that way. _Poor bastard,_ John thought _having to talk to a man who had just lost his wife, the mother of his children and who was sitting on his car hood in his pajamas on a cold All Souls night clutching a baby and a four year old who was in full hero worship of the firemen trying to save his house from burning to the ground._ Not an easy job for a new firefighter, and a young one at that. John briefly wondered what had happened to the young man and what his real name was because it sure as hell wasn’t Fireman Chicken Shit FUBAR!

John also realized that Dean had remembered a great deal from the night Mary died. He had hoped that because Dean had been so young that maybe the horror of it all might have faded over the years but clearly every detail was etched into his son’s mind. John had seriously underestimated the impact of the event on Dean but now he had a chance to do things over. At this moment in time he had a window of opportunity to see the world as his oldest son had seen it and maybe he could do things differently, better, to ensure that Dean knows that he is loved and needed.

 _Yes definitely a plan. Make it up to Dean anyway he could._ So John pulled himself together, pushed open the door to Dean’s room saying, “Okay…” 

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his sons lying side by side on the bed sound asleep. He smiled and promptly left the room.

“Mary?” He called to Nurse O’Brien as he approached the nurses’ station. “That bath for Dean, can we put it on hold for about an hour? He’s asleep. Sam’s with him though, so I might go get a coffee.”

“How’s it going John?” The portly woman asked. They had become friends over the last month and John was pleased to have someone he could talk to when he was feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Oh you know. Parent versus first grader. First grader won. We just went ten rounds over Dean handing over his teddy bear so he could have a wash, Dean that is not the bear. Let’s just say that after such a taxing event Dean, the teddy and Sam are fast asleep and like all caring parents I am making the most of the moment to have some ‘me time’,” he grinned.

She laughed. “Oh dear! More of those battles ahead you realize?”

“Yeah. That boy is so stubborn.”

“Can’t imagine who he inherited that from eh John? Can you?”

“Okay! Okay I get it,” he laughed at her gentle ribbing. “By the way are the results from Dean’s latest MRI in yet?” Once they had discovered that Dean had regressed Dr Jessop had ordered another MRI to see if there were any changes from the one they took when Dean had required brain surgery. John was hopeful that this latest one would be good news because the thought of having a permanent five year old was downright frightening.

“Not yet but as soon they are in I’m sure Dr Jessop will come and talk to you.”

“I just…you know?” He shrugged. “I hope it’s not permanent this thing with Dean. I mean if it is we’ll cope but Dean…he deserves a better life. I just want him whole again.”

“Give him time John. I know the boy’s been through a lot but look on the bright side. Every day he gets stronger and every day we unhook something that was attached to him. He is healing; his leg and collarbone are almost healed, his anemia is getting under control, his heart is getting stronger. He’s still got a long way to go but he is improving by degrees. Cling to the little successes Dad and don’t sweat the other stuff. Now go get your coffee and I’ll keep an eye on the boys for you.”

“Thanks Mary, you’re a saint.” He waved to her as he headed off for a little Dad time.

“And don’t you forget,” she called after him.

************************************

An hour later John was back with the boys and they were at it again.

Nurse O’Brien had come in to give Dean a wash but had been stopped in her tracks when Dean had flatly refused to let her near him.

“Mommy and Daddy had said never talk to strangers,” he solemnly explained.

“Yes dear but I’m not a stranger am I? You call me by my first name don’t you?”

Dean nodded. 

“So let’s give you a quick wash.”

“No!” He screamed. “You can’t.”

“Dean, Mary won’t hurt you…” John tried to explain.

“Daddy no!” He beckoned his father closer and whispered in his ear.

“Oh I see.” John turned and blushed slightly not sure how to tell Nurse O’Brien the problem.

“Whatever is wrong dear?” She was genuinely concerned; after all if it bothered her patient then it might affect his recovery.

“You’re a girl!” Dean blurted out as he clutched the bed clothes up to his chin. “Girls aren’t supposed to see boys’ bits.” 

Sam burst out laughing, “Boy did he change when he grew up.”

John glared at Sam and drew has finger across his throat in silent warning. Sam got the message loud and clear and settled down to let the grown-ups sort out the problem. However the fact remained. Dean, now that he was awake, would not allow a woman to bathe him and there was simply no way around that argument for poor Nurse O’Brien.

“Your job now Dad!” She stated as she handed John towels and wash cloths. “You’ve seen me do this a plenty of times. Just wash a little bit then dry him off quickly so he doesn’t get cold and for god sakes don’t knock out any drips or tubes.” She sashayed happily to the door, “Good luck boys,” she called out before the door swung shut leaving them to it.

Of course Dean had no objection to his Dad washing him but he still refused to let go of the bear and until the bear was out of his arms they were at a stalemate.

“Dean can’t Fu…” John struggled to say the bear’s name without laughing. “Can’t Fubar watch from the bedside table?”

“No,” he pouted.

Finally they found a compromise. “Dean how about I hold Fubar while Dad gives you a bath?” Sam knew Dean would never deny him anything.

“I guess.” It was obvious Dean was not comfortable with the idea at all but reluctantly handed over the precious toy as if he expected to never see it again.

Sam was mortified at the look in Dean’s eyes and wondered just how much his older brother had given up in the past so that he could have everything he wanted. 

“It’s okay Dean,” Sam assured him. “I’m just minding him so he doesn’t get wet and when Dad’s finished I promise to give him back so you two can have a nap.”

Dean nodded somewhat placated but Sam was sure his brother had tears in his eyes, so he held the bear at the foot of the bed facing Dean and waited for bath time to be over.

Unfortunately bath time took longer than they would have liked especially since John’s right arm was still in plaster so he was using his left hand and he was very nervous about hurting Dean, lord knows the boy still had a multitude of bruises, cuts, stitches and scars but the biggest delay was washing his son’s penis. The three of them just stared at it and then at each other. Dean was all wide eyed and trusting but awed by the catheter inserted into it, Sam was feeling squeamish at the sight of the catheter and John paled as memories of that night flooded his mind. The last thing he needed was for Dean to become distressed because he suddenly remembered being raped by his father who was yet again touching his genitalia.

“Why is there a stwaw in my doodle?”

“Doodle?” Sam blurted out. “Doodle!!!”

Dean glared at Sam, embarrassed that his younger brother was laughing at him. 

“Sam!” John hissed at his son before turning to answer Dean. “It’s a tube and it’s so you can go to the bathroom,” John explained.

Dean was confused. “But I’m not allowed to go the bathwoom. Mawy said I had to stay in bed.” 

“Right.” _Smart-assed kid,_ he thought. “Well it’s so you don’t have to go to the bathroom.”

“Then how do I do a wee?”

Sam snickered; he was so enjoying his father’s predicament.

“Sam for goodness sake,” John begged his son to stop.

“Sorry!” Sam replied but John knew his son was having way too much fun with all of this.

Turning back to Dean he tried to explain. “You wee through the straw, ah tube and it goes into a bag.”

“Ewww,” said Dean as he scrunched up his nose. “That’s yucky. Take it out Daddy quick,” he pleaded.

“It’s alright son. The doctor will take it out soon enough. Just don’t think about it. Now let’s wash your….bits,” he muttered and Sam started laughing again.

Dean giggled too, “Sammy’s doodle’s not that big yet,” he confided to his father. 

Sam poked his tongue out at Dean. “I’m bigger than you are big brother.”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Boys that’s enough,” John demanded. 

Sam by this stage was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down his face.

“Sam pull yourself together and shut up.”

“Bad daddy you said shut up,” interrupted Dean cheekily. “You have to put money in the swear jar.”

“Swear jar? You had a swear jar?” Sam squealed. 

“Yes Sam your mother had a swear jar!” John retorted.

Sam wondered when this seemingly normal family life actually disappeared because he remembered none of this. He had been raised by his father and by the sounds of it things like swear jars and words like _doodle_ were very much his Mother’s influence, so they were long gone, just like his Mom, by the time he was old enough to remember anything. What a different life they might have had if she had lived.

Still the idea of his big brave demon hunting Dad being hauled over the coals by his Mom for swearing just made Sam want to laugh more. 

John tried to ignore his younger son and focused on Dean, “I was naughty wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” Dean giggled.

“Daddy will put a dollar in the jar okay?”

“’kay.”

“Alright let’s finish your wash and then you can have a sleep.” John said quietly. He had seen way too much of Dean’s private parts in the last five weeks to do him a life time and he just wanted this bath over with. 

By the time John had finished Dean was barely able to keep his eyes open. “Close your eyes son. We’ll be here while you sleep.”

Dean nodded wearily, too tired to talk but he turned his head slightly to see his precious bear. It struck Sam to the core that although Dean looked longingly at the toy he never asked Sam to give it back. Sam smiled sadly at his brother, surprised by how much Dean was prepared to forfeit to ensure his brother seemed happy.

“Here you go Dean, you take Fubar. He wants you.” 

Dean smiled weakly, clutched the bear to him and drifted into a contented sleep.

********************************************

Day one of _Dealing with Dean,_ as Sam now called Dean’s recovery, was almost over and all things considered they had survived it quite well. Of course coping with a six foot one five year old was never going to be easy but they managed…sort of. Dean slept a lot and when he was awake he seemed reasonably happy, although John finally comprehended how deep Dean’s abandonment issues went when he couldn’t even go to the bathroom without Dean crying out “Daddy don’t leave me.” Suffice to say John was pleased the camp bed was still in Dean’s room because there was no way in the world his son was going to let him out of his sight in the near future at least.

Settling Dean for the night should have been easy because the he simply didn’t have the strength to stay awake for long periods at a time but as John tucked Dean into bed he found himself in unfamiliar territory. Dean wanted a bedtime story. Not that John was adverse to a good tale but he knew better than most that the stuff of fairytales was pretty much real and he just didn’t want to scare his impressionable son. So in the end he settled on the story of _Jack and the Beanstalk._ In twenty years of hunting John couldn’t recall a single encounter with a giant so that seemed a good choice. The story was truly a fairytale where boy meets giant, boy beats giant and boy brings home a fortune to single parent. John liked that story. There was a hunter’s justice to it he thought, hunt hard and get rewarded. He liked that idea.

Dean snuggled close to his Dad as John told the story and even Sam seemed mesmerized by his father telling a tale of adventure and daring deeds. Dean drifted into a contented sleep but John continued to sit on the bed enjoying the chance to be with him without adult concerns and macho posturing getting in the way. Eventually though he needed to stand and work out the kinks in his tired muscles. He signaled to Sam that he would go get them a coffee and had almost made it out the door when a shrill scream filled the room.

“What the…Dean what’s wrong?” He cried as he raced back to his son.

“I swear I didn’t touch him. He was asleep,” Sam hurriedly pointed out hands in the air to prove it. John and Sam both needed the quiet time so the last thing Sam would have done was disturb his brother.

“Monster!” Dean cried as he shrank back in the bed.

John tried to reassure him. “Dean there’s no monster…”

Sam whipped out their EMF detector and immediately scanned the room. “I’m not getting any readings.”

“Of course you won’t get a reading it isn’t fucking there!” 

Sam flinched at his father’s rebuke and could have sworn he heard John mumble something about the brains of a duck and thank god he didn’t have to pay for that damn college education.

“Swear jar,” Dean screamed in between demands for his Dad to kill the monster.

John pulled out ten dollars from his wallet and slammed it down on the bedside table, “Bad Daddy and I’m paying in advance because it may take Daddy a while to kill that blood sucking shit head dick wad caffeine stealing bastard creature that ruined my quiet night.”

Sam shrunk back into a far corner and Dean dived under the covers. It would seem their father was a bigger threat right now.

“So where is it Dean?” John roared clearly not impressed to be hunting imagery monsters in a hospital no less.

“In the closet,” came a muffled shaky voice from under the bed covers.

“The closet...of course where else would a monster hide?” John muttered. It was obvious that Dean wouldn’t sleep and John wouldn’t get his coffee until the monster was dispatched.

By this stage Sam had overcome his fear of his father and boldly asked, “So are you going to give Dean a .45 too? I mean that’s how you manage stuff like this right?” Sam had always been hurt by how his father had dealt with his childhood fears and was eager to see how John would now handle Dean’s.

John glared at Sam, just what he needed two boys acting like children, “No Sam,” he replied through gritted teeth. “There are laws about firearms in hospitals last time I checked. We will have to deal with this the old fashioned way.”

Sam snorted, John scowled and Dean continued to cower under the covers, Fubar clasped tightly to his chest for added protection. In the end John went to the closet and did what countless Dads had done before him, he flung open the doors and ordered the monster to go back to where ever it had come from and leave Dean alone or John would have to hurt it and hurt it bad.

“You did it Daddy,” Dean yelled. 

John tucked Dean in again saying, “Alright son settle down now.” 

“Leave the light on please?”

“Ok the light stays on and the monster is gone. Sleep now.” John kissed Dean’s forehead. 

“Love you Daddy, love you Sammy,” Dean yawned as he drifted off to sleep.

“Love you too son,” John whispered.

“Night big brother,” Sam quietly replied.

John sighed deeply, “Finally he’s asleep.” 

Sam couldn’t resist asking now that things had settled down, “So why did he get special treatment and all I got was a pistol?”

John couldn’t believe they were still having this conversation, “Because his hand eye coordination is shot to pieces. Too dangerous,” John casually replied. “So you want a coffee?”

Sam shrugged. He wasn’t going to get an answer so he may as well have a coffee. “Yeah. Thanks”

***************************************

In the past twenty four hours John felt like he had been transported back in time to when life was a constant challenge being a single parent to two very active little boys; except now he had one sick little boy and one big boy who seemed to swing from jealousy that his brother was getting lots of quality attention to celebrating in his brother’s befuddled mental state. Still John would have preferred to get through this latest phase of Dean’s recovery without Sam laughing hysterically every time Dean said or did something childlike which was pretty much all of the time.

Dr Jessop had visited them briefly and assured them that Dean’s condition was most likely temporary. He pointed out that Dean’s brain looked lovely, not something John would ever have said about anyone’s brain but he was used to Dr Jessop’s odd little ways by now. Apparently the latest MRI indicated some minor improvement since the first test a while back and that was a good thing. He also stressed that it was not unheard of for a patient to revert to a childlike state like Dean had after the trauma he suffered and subsequent complications. 

They had been also been warned to not take what Dean said too seriously because he, like most children, would probably say the first thing that popped into his head and that it really didn’t mean anything at all. Dr Jessop reminded them that they needed to be patient and not to worry but John worried all the same. He worried that Dean the adult would never return and even though he knew that Dean had much to face when as he recovered, he preferred to have a tormented older Dean to talk to than the sweet little boy in front of him, although he loved the little boy just the same.

Later that day Dean was flicking through the TV channels, while John read the newspaper and Sam sipped his latte and read a book. It was a relaxed afternoon and despite the fact that Dean still had a long way to go recovery wise at least he was awake and communicative albeit with the mentality of a child. 

John looked over at Dean and wondered if the younger Dean had emerged because the older Dean had been so badly hurt emotionally and physically by the one person he trusted unconditionally. _Who knows?_ he thought. John understood demons and ghosts, he understood people less and there were times when he simply didn’t understand his boys at all. He turned his attentions back to his paper and enjoyed the relative quiet of the afternoon.

John really wasn’t paying attention to what Dean was watching on TV and it was only when Dean giggled and said “That’s wude.” That John looked up over his paper to see what had captured his son’s attention.

“What the fu...Dean give me the controls please,” he demanded. 

“No.” Dean snatched the controls away hiding them in his favorite hiding place, his sling.

_Must be crowded in there, John thought. What with his teddy bear, the controls and of course his arm!_

“Dean give me the controls now!”

“No.”

 _Well that didn’t work, so time for the big guns._ “You don’t want Sammy watching rude shows do you? He’s not big enough yet.” John smirked at his younger son.

Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged.

John could see that Dean wrestled with the idea of keeping the controls but reluctantly handed them over. When it came to Sam Dean could always be relied upon to do the right thing. 

“Good boy. How about Daddy find you something _different_ to watch,” he suggested as he frantically tried to find a more appropriate program. Of course that meant finding something that didn’t show a naked man in the shower which wouldn’t have bothered any of them before Dean’s coma but Dean was a child now and well children simply shouldn’t watch that sort of thing. 

John muttered about the sort of shows the hospital let kids have access to and the irony of the situation didn’t pass him by. He had raped his adult son, albeit while possessed by one bad ass demon, said son almost died from far too many injuries all caused by the demon and now was brain damaged, for a short time only they hoped and had the mental age of five year old and the concentration span of a gnat. Consequently John was forced to vet what his son watched on TV because his twenty-seven year old son was at the moment too young to watch that sort of stuff. 

Dean leaned in close to John and whispered conspiratorially “You’re bigger than him,” as he pointed to the man on the TV.

 _Oh sweet Jesus,_ thought John.

Sam snorted coffee everywhere. “Did he just say...?”

John glared at Sam, Dean beamed with pride at his father and Sam just cracked up at the pair of them.

“Sam!” John seethed. “You’re not helping.” An insistent tug on his shirt brought his attention back to his older son.

“Daddy?”

“Yes Dean,” John tried to sound calm but all the while he was trying to cope with the fact that his son was awed by the size of his cock.

“...but it hurt when it went in ‘cause it is so big.” He admitted.

John blanched and Sam attempted to distract his brother while their father pulled himself together. “Hey Dean let’s watch TV. Can I pick the show?”

“Ok Sammy.”

 _Thank you,_ John mouthed to Sam.

John sat back mortified that Dean seemed to remember so much. The doctors had warned them that Dean would most likely prattle about anything and everything just like a child but they never mentioned he might dredge up memories or worse reveal hidden secrets. This was a serious turn of events because if Dean in his childlike way decided to tell the staff what he remembered then there was the chance that maybe the whole thing would unravel around them. 

Dean the adult wouldn’t have said anything about the rape. The pain of that night would be locked so far inside that you would never know that the man had suffered at all but he had suffered greatly. John knew the extent of Dean’s injuries after all he/the Demon had caused them. He remembered how Dean had screamed as the Demon thrust into his unprepared passage. He recalled how Dean begged for it to stop and his inconsolable sobbing as the rape went on and on. He remembered how Dean vomited over and over and how he rolled on the floor clutching his stomach in pain and he remembered the blood, there was so much blood. Physically it had been bad and John could only guess at the extent of the emotional impact it had on his son. Yes John knew a lot of damage had been done but this Dean, this sweet boy, only remembered the event not the emotion of it all. This Dean was not weighed down by inhibitions and obviously had no problem airing his thoughts on the subject.

So while Sam had successfully diffused the situation, John knew that he needed to address the problem and now was as good a time as any to discuss it. “Dean,” he called garnering his son’s full attention. “You know you shouldn’t talk about people’s private parts unless we’re at home. The people at the hospital don’t need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s private,” he spluttered.

“But Daddy it’s this big,” Dean announced, awe coloring his voice as he tried to demonstrate just how big his Dad was by stretching out his free arm, “This big and more,” he gushed. John just choked at the sight. He was reminded of David Attenborough doing one of those nature documentaries where he says “now here we have an adult male whale, as you can see the penis is about sixteen feet long and the testicles weigh approximately twenty-two pounds.” John shook his head dispelling the thought and firmly but gently pushed Dean’s hand down before someone walked in and Dean told them his father had penis larger than a whale.

Sam was all but rolling on the floor with laughter but John tried to ignore his youngest son while he explained a few things to Dean, “Thank you son but if you tell everyone about Daddy’s private bits they might want to see it too and then everyone would know and you wouldn’t want that would you?”

John hated to do it but he needed to make sure Dean wouldn’t tell anyone about that night and knowing Dean so well, John hoped his son wouldn’t want to share such a unique fact about his Dad. 

“Guess not,” Dean replied. 

“So no more talking about Daddy’s doodle okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good boy now what do you have to do Dean?”

“I have to keep our doodles a secret.” Dean pretended to zip up his lip and smiled adoringly at his father.

“That’s my boy, Daddy is proud of you Dean. Now time for you to have a nap I think.” He gave Dean a kiss on the forehead, tucked the blankets around him and stroked his hair. “Sammy and I will be right here when you wake up.”

“I’m not tired,” Dean whined but his eyes were already drifting shut, his limited energy already spent on their simple conversation.

“But Daddy is; now go to sleep.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“Is Sammy going to sleep too?”

“Absolutely! Nap time Sammy.”

Sam pouted and reluctantly stretched out on the camp bed and Dean happily fell asleep knowing his little brother was resting too. John thought over what Dean had said. _Good lord he thinks my cock is huge; I don’t know whether to be proud or stunned._ John started to chuckle quietly and Sam looked over at his father with a knowing grin.

“So Dad deep down Dean obviously suffers from penis envy, who would have thought?” Sam laughed. 

John just shook his head and smiled. 

“And Dad,” Sam continued. “You know, maybe he has a better handle on what happened than we thought.” 

“Hope so Sam.”

For the first time in a long while there was a glimmer hope that Dean would get through this and they were determined to see that he did.

***************************************

**PHONETIC ALAPHABET**

A - Alfa  
B - Bravo  
C - Charlie  
D - Delta  
E - Echo  
F - Foxtrot  
G - Golf  
H - Hotel  
I - India  
J - Juliet  
K - Kilo  
L - Lima  
M - Mike  
N - November  
O - Oscar  
P - Papa  
Q - Quebec  
R - Romeo  
S - Sierra  
T - Tango  
U - Uniform  
V - Victor  
W - Whisky  
X - X-ray  
Y - Yankee  
Z - Zulu

*****************************************

 **Chapter 8** \- _Some things are so unexpected that no one is prepared for them._

Even when you think life is boring and pedestrian it is the simple repetition of daily events that brings us comfort. So when those occasional earth-shattering moments occur we look back with fondness and longing on those ordinary days.

John understood that feeling all too well. He was more than aware of how certain things, such as his wife dying, altered his view on everything. Sadly that event in particular took him from a gloriously mundane existence, to living almost every minute on the edge. Worse still he dragged his boys into the maelstrom with him. 

However, the death of the Yellow-Eyed Demon had been a game changer and suddenly John and Sam found themselves sitting around with nothing to do except watch Dean. They had spent over two decades hunting, living by their wits but now the repetition of everyday life began to reassert its dominance. By degrees the remnants of their hunting days were relegated to a few stories shared over a coffee in the hospital cafeteria while Dean slept. 

Sadly though, the victory to win back normality had been bittersweet because Dean had almost paid the ultimate price for their future comfort with his life. Because he had been so broken, so terribly damaged their lives were now marked by small but significant events, like the first time Dean sat in a chair or the day he took a few steps or the day he said ‘I want to go home.’ 

So John and Sam muddled through by adopting a routine that bordered on the monotonous. After years of constant change and continually moving, it felt good to enjoy the simple things and to bask in the joy of an unremarkable life. However, the reality was their life was a long way from normal and no amount of routine would help when one of those epic, life-shattering events interrupted the seemingly mundane pace of their new life.

*******************************

“Where’s Dad?” 

“He’ll be here soon Dean,” Sam patiently replied although he had to admit his patience was wearing thin after hours of answering the same question again and again and again. 

Their father had left earlier that morning to find them somewhere to live near the hospital so that Dean wouldn’t have far to go for ongoing treatment. Since the accident John and Sam had been living out of a motel, but if Dean was going to be discharged in the near future then he needed something more than a cheap highway _rent by the hour_ motel to lay his head. Something not too expensive, clean and comfortable was their aim but it was a short term plan, one to get them through the immediate period after Dean was discharged; more permanent arrangements for their future would have to wait until they better understood what lay ahead for Dean. 

However and perhaps more importantly, Dean kept asking to go home; so as Christmas approached John and Sam both felt the need to make one for him. It wasn’t that they were a religious family but Dean saw life through the eyes of a child at the moment and in his childlike way Christmas was the focus of his world and he desperately wanted to be home by Christmas wherever that home was. So John felt the driving urgency to get them a place of their own and in the event that Dean wasn’t well enough to go home just yet, which was more likely the case at least he would know he had a home to go to eventually. 

Sam had tried to keep Dean entertained throughout the day, which wasn’t a chore at all really, except that Dean seemed to swing from seeing Sam as gigantic two year old, to actually talking to him as if he understood that Sam was now an adult. That had been the way of it since he awoke from the coma and it scared Sam at times as he simply didn’t know where he fitted into Dean’s life now. If Dean stayed this way then Sam knew that his Dad would simply adjust because Dean was his son no matter what. But for Sam the change meant never having a big brother again and that was something he would really miss. 

The day had passed with minimum fuss and stress for either of the Winchester boys. Dean slept on and off and when he was awake they talked or played or watched television and Sam had already been warned by their Dad to ensure Dean watched something suitable for his current mental age. So despite a heavy dose of children’s TV Sam had survived their viewing experience with grace and his sense of humor intact but now as it was getting dark, Dean had grown increasingly agitated and he simply wanted his Dad to come back.

“Sam where’s Dad?” he demanded.

The tone was so like the Dean of old that Sam just stared at his brother, slightly surprised that Dean had called him _Sam_ and not _Sammy_ as he had done since he came out of the coma. Dean for his part was looking back at Sam, eyes wide, brow furrowed as if he was trying to remember something important. 

“Dean what’s wrong?” 

“Sam?” It had been a question but the tone was one of confusion as he continued to stare at his brother.

“I’m right here Dean,” he assured him. 

“Sssam? Dddad...?” His fingers clutched the bed covers and his breathing quickened as his eyes darted around the room as if unsure of where he was or who was there.

Dean had stuttered when he was a boy, or so their father had said, and it was one of the things that had re-emerged when Dean awoke from the coma. When he was nervous or afraid he stumbled over words and that combined with his inability to think as an adult meant that the words came out disjointed or as in this case with a stammer. Sam could only guess at what was going through his brother’s mind right now to have caused such a sudden response.

Sam leaned closer to Dean’s bed, “Dean can I sit with you?”

With eyes glassy and bottom lip quivering, Dean nodded slightly.

Sam sat on the bed and gently placed an arm around his shoulders, “Shhh its ok. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Dean looked pleadingly at Sam as he desperately tried to utter words that never came.

Sam was puzzled by his brother’s behavior and whatever had frightened him it seemed far worse than just missing Dad. “Dean what is it? What’s wrong?”

Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, fingers gripping tight enough to leave bruises, “Sssam?” he said again but then in a heartbeat the haunted look was gone, his fingers loosened their grasp and Dean asked in his childlike voice yet again, “Where’s Dad?”

The whole episode had lasted only a few seconds but it unnerved Sam as he tried to make sense of what just happened. In the end all he could do was say the same old, “He’ll be here soon Dean. He’ll be here soon.”

Sam wasn’t mad at his Dad for taking so long, after all he appreciated that it would take time to find them a place to live but the irony of their situation didn’t escape him either. Here they both were, the Winchester boys alone again, trying to keep each other entertained and wondering when their Dad would come back…just like old times. 

Desperate to keep Dean occupied until their father returned Sam asked, “So do you want to play a game?”

“I want Dad,” was the petulant reply. 

“Dad said he wouldn’t be too long so try not to worry ok?” It was a hollow promise as Sam had no idea how long it would be before their Dad returned.

Dean held Sam’s hand lightly, a stark contrast to his vice-like grip a few minutes ago and laid a weary head on his brother’s shoulder. “I miss him.” 

“I know.” And Sam did know. No matter what had happened through the years or even that night at the cabin, Dean still adored his father and even when the man was literally a right pain in the ass Dean still loved him. It was finding Dad that compelled Dean to keep going during the last year, not finding the Demon. It was only in those last days before the Demon was killed that Dean opened up enough to say the hunt wasn’t worth dying for and yet, out of all of them he was the one who almost died... _how ironic,_ Sam thought.

Sam enjoyed the quiet moment with his brother. Physical contact was so rare between them and it was nice to just be able to comfort his older brother until Dean suddenly announced, “I have to find Dad.”

“Excuse me?” Sam asked, as he sat up staring at Dean who was now trying to get out of bed.

“Dean lie down, he’ll be here soon!” Sam leant across the bed and grabbed hold of Dean’s wrist pulling him back down on the bed.

“I have to go find him,” Dean declared as he wrenched his arm free of Sam’s grasp and tried to stand again.

Of course standing and walking were something Dean just didn’t manage very well these days. He had a pronounced limp, usually needed something or someone to steady him as he walked about the ward and he tired very easily. Walking was simply too much exertion for a body as compromised as Dean’s was. So now as he tried to stand unaided Sam was more concerned that his brother would simply collapse in a heap if he didn’t stop him.

“I don’t think so big brother,” Sam replied as he quickly rounded the bed in an effort to at least steady his brother before he fell.

“Don’t tell me what to do Sam!” His words were an echo of the old Dean, but his voice lacked authority as he endeavored to both steady himself and breathe at the same time.

Sam shook his head and smiled; Dean was stubborn no matter which Dean you knew. 

“Sammy,” Dean explained. “Dad might need help.” 

“Hey sit down before you fall down!” Sam ordered as he guided his somewhat unsteady and breathless brother to the nearby chair. 

Luckily there was no need to worry about covering up the horrible hospital gowns that Dean had worn when he first came to the hospital. These days he was dressed in T-shirt, boxers and sweat pants and a pair of loafers. 

“You warm enough?” Sam asked wondering if Dean needed a blanket or sweat top to cover his bare arms.

“I’m good,” he replied.

And there it was again. The tone of voice that said adult Dean was talking and not the child Dean. The whole thing was seriously doing a number on Sam’s head.

The problem was Dean wasn’t good. He was shivering. So here they were, Dean deposited on a chair and Sam crouched in front of him furiously trying to cover his brother with a blanket to keep him warm and at the same time convince him to stay put. Dean for his part was frantically trying to tell Sam that he needed to find their father. The problem was exacerbated by the fact that Sam couldn’t just tell Dean that Dad was trying to find them a house because for reasons known only to Dean he thought they already had one. John didn’t want to shatter his son’s illusions by telling him they didn’t; hence the urgency to acquire a residence as soon as possible. So Sam was not about to make things worse by announcing to his intellectually challenged brother that their Dad was house hunting. That was one earth shattering event he just couldn’t face by himself.

Dean started to shake violently as his fears for their father consumed him. “I have to go Sam. Donnn’t wowwy. I’ll find him. You stay here. It’s safe here,” he added as he tried to stand again. 

Sam pushed him back into the chair, “Dean we’re both safe and so is Dad. Come on Dad wouldn’t leave us alone unless he was sure that we would be okay.” 

Of course Dad had often left them alone while he went out on a hunt and their safety many a time had been dubious and more often than not depended on Dean being the protector. Sam assumed Dean was drawing on those memories now as he desperately tried to stand up. 

“It’s Dad Sam, who will watch out for him?” It was such an adult response that Sam couldn’t help but wonder if the old Dean was just below the surface desperately trying to come out.

“Please Dean please just sit down. You’re not well and I know Dad is alright. Come on,” he soothed. “Try and relax.”

Sam saw the tears in Dean’s eyes and he couldn’t stand it any longer. Dean was distressed and nothing short of their father walking through the door was going to make him happy. He watched as his brother sat hunched in the chair and decided to call their dad; of course to do that he had to go to the lobby. The sign at the ward entrance had said no cell phones so he had no choice but to go down four floors and make the call. 

“Dean, I’ll go find Dad ok? You just sit here and don’t worry. I know where he is, I’ll talk to him.

“No Sam don’t go, you have to stay. Dad will be mad if you go. I’ll go find him. I’m older…” Dean tried unsuccessfully to pull Sam to him but Sam held Deans arms firmly and pushed him back into the chair. “Dean this isn’t a discussion. I am going and you are staying. You’re not well enough to go anywhere and I know how to get Dad back. So please trust me I can fix this. Now sit there; I will be back in a few minutes.”

He stood quickly and rather than get into a protracted argument with his brother he simply walked out of the room, Dean’s protests echoing after him. Sam stopped briefly at the nurses’ station to let the staff know that he was stepping out for a minute and that Dean was alone. 

Dean had been moved into a ward for less critical cases a week ago. It had been hard saying goodbye to the staff in the critical care unit especially Nurse O’Brien who had been their port in a storm and not having her looking after them was going to be tough. But the upside was that if the doctors deemed Dean could be downgraded in his care then they could assume he was getting better. Dr Jessop seemed to think so anyway and he was still in charge of Dean’s care although Dean’s daily needs were met by the staff of the new ward. 

Dr Jessop visited daily but the old confrontations were few and every day was pretty much the same; he checked Dean’s chart, talked to Dean and assessed Dean’s motor and mental function. Periodically he would order another battery of tests but generally he popped in and out and life just flowed along as they all waited for some sign that Dean would become whole again. It was their routine and they used it as a crutch to help them through the long days and nights.

That Dean needed less one on one care now was a good thing but that’s not to say he was well, far from it, his anemia was still a problem, his heart was weak, he needed daily therapy to strengthen his leg and generally he lacked stamina which made him more susceptible to infections and then of course there was the not so minor problem of his regression, which the doctors hadn’t decided yet whether it was permanent or not. So all things considered Dean was a bit of wreck not unlike his Impala, but they never mentioned the car to him. That subject like the house was taboo because even though Dean didn’t think he could drive, he knew that the car was his Dad’s pride and joy, and he would be upset to know it was a crumpled piece of junk out at Bobby’s place. Yes some things were best left unsaid for sanity’s sake.

Although they had been on this ward for about a week now, the staff was less friendly here. No Mary O’Brien’s to brighten their day. It bothered Sam that the staff didn’t seem to take Dean seriously and he had overheard a couple of the younger nurses laughing about the new cute guy who was so clueless. It disappointed him that people who were supposed to care about the sick and injured really didn’t give a damn. All he could think of was that Dean had been lucky to get such good care when he first came to the hospital or he may not have survived the first twenty-four hours let alone the next six weeks. The sad thing was that Dean still needed a lot of care and yet more often than not since they came to this ward, he or John had had to chase down the staff for clean towels or a sheet change and once the nurse had forgotten Dean’s medication because it was time for her break. The Winchesters accepted that hospitals were busy places and that patients could be demanding but Dean couldn’t fend for himself and so yet again John and Sam were forced to be there almost around the clock to ensure that Dean got the care he needed.

“Hello?” Sam called as the nurses chatted amongst themselves seemingly unaware that he was standing there. “Hello?” He shouted a little louder this time gaining their attention. “Hi I’m Sam Winchester…” four pairs of eyes stared blankly at him. “My brother Dean 4C…”

“Oh right. The brain damaged guy,” a blonde nurse replied. “So?”

Sam winced at her callous response but decided to forgo the lecture on _how to deal with patients and families,_ to avoid being away from Dean any longer than he had to. “I need to make a call…”

“You can’t use cell phones on the ward. Pay phone is in the lobby,” she announced.

“I know. Look I just wanted you to know that Dean is awake and sitting in a chair at the moment and I will be gone about ten minutes. Just keep an eye on him if you don’t mind. He’s a little agitated at the moment.”

“He’ll be fine. Besides he can’t move around very well so I doubt he will be running down the hall after you.”

Her attempt at humor fell flat and Sam just rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay. Well…back in a few minutes,” and he replied as headed to the elevator.

The sounds of the nurses giggling could be heard as he entered the elevator and he hoped one of them had the good sense to check that Dean was alright. It’s not like he thought Dean would leave, but he was worried that his brother was upset that he was now alone. 

Sam burst out of the elevator on the ground floor and quickly rang John. Without waiting for his father to say anything he demanded, “Dad you need to get back as quickly as possible. Dean’s really upset. He thinks something has happened to you and he wants to go find you.”

John sighed loudly. His older son had become increasingly clingy as the weeks wore on and more than once John wished he had dealt with Dean’s fears of being rejected and abandoned years ago but he hadn’t and now he was paying the price.

“On my way Sam. Allowing for traffic I should be there in about thirty minutes. Just try and keep him happy. I won’t be long.”

“Dad he doesn’t listen to me…”

“Sam I’m in the car and you are there. He’s your brother, your sick brother, I’m sure you can manage for half an hour.”

“I…yes Sir. Just frustrated I guess.”

“I understand son, trust me I do. Now go back to Dean I’ll be there soon.”

“Ok see you then,” Sam said before closing his phone.

Sam stood in the lobby, phone in hand and with a heavy sigh headed back to Dean to tell him that Dad was on his way. Hopefully that would keep his brother happy for the short time it would take John to reach the hospital.

Sam nodded to the nurses as he walked back to Dean’s room.

“Back so soon?” the blonde called.

“I said I’d only be gone ten minutes,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Dean was no trouble I hope?”

“Nope,” the blonde replied. “Never heard a word out of him.”

“Thanks.”

Sam walked down the corridor to Dean’s room and on entering was faced with one of those epic, life-shattering events which intermittently interrupt the seemingly mundane pace of life…

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 9** \- _Code 1_

**“Dispatch to Bravo 5-5-4, Code 2 Bowie County Hospital possible Code Adam.”**

**“Copy Bravo 5-5-4 10-4; 10-76 Code 2 Bowie County Hospital.”**

 

“Mr. Winchester?”

Sam turned to see a short man in an expensive suit standing before him.

“I’m Wilson Turnbull. I represent the hospital…”

“You’re their lawyer?” Sam snorted. He was mildly surprised that the hospital had sent their lawyer so soon after Dean had disappeared. 

“Well yes,” the man cautiously replied. “I just wanted to reassure you that we are doing _everything_ we can to find your brother. Ron Peterson, our head of security, is on the job and I have faith that he and his team will locate Dean in no time at all.” 

“And you’re here why?” Sam’s tone was cold. He had a pretty good idea why the man was here. The hospital was obviously worried that if Dean was not found quickly then they would have a case to answer so they had swung into damage control early. 

“I’m here because this hospital wants to ensure that _everything_ is done to find your brother. I want you to know that we will investigate the matter thoroughly and any breach in protocol stemming from the incident will be rectified to ensure this doesn’t happen again. Furthermore I am here to assist you in your time of need. I am the voice of this hospital so feel free to ask for my help. I want to help you get through this traumatic experience.”

It was just words, a standard hospital spiel meted out to families to give the veneer that the hospital cared when in fact they were scurrying to plug the gaping holes in procedures that let this happen in the first place.

“Mr. Turnbull,” a portly man in his early fifties coldly addressed the lawyer as he passed him on his way to greet Sam. “Mr. Winchester I’m Ron Peterson head of hospital security.”

Sam sized up the newcomer. He was probably an ex-cop who took on this job rather than work another ten years walking the beat. Sam also stored away for future reference the fact that the security chief didn’t seem to like the lawyer. Though that may have stemmed from a lifetime of nabbing bad guys only to have slick lawyers get them off. Still it seemed as if these two had butted heads in the past here at the hospital and Sam hoped that any animosity between the men could be pushed aside in order to focus on finding Dean.

“Mr. Winchester I’ll leave you in Mr. Peterson’s capable hands,” Wilson Turnbull stated without even looking at the security chief. He handed Sam his business card. “Call me if you need anything, I won’t be far away.”

“Right!” Sam muttered as he watched the man walk out of the lobby. He knew the lawyer would reappear if the situation escalated but Sam was happy that he stayed out of everyone’s way right now. He turned back to the security chief and held out his hand in greeting. “Sam! I prefer Sam,” he replied. What he didn’t say was that he preferred to be less formal when talking to people he trusted and he was certain this man would have Dean’s best interest at heart so Sam was willing to give the man a chance. “I’m Dean’s brother.” 

“Sam I want you to know that my men are scouring the hospital and I hope to bring you good news soon about Dean. I’ve spoken with Dean’s doctor, Dr Jessop and he is of the opinion that even if your brother wandered off he just doesn’t have the strength right now to have gone too far. I’m sure we will find him asleep in a storeroom somewhere. So try not to worry.”

Sam wasn’t so convinced. Dean, even when sick, was stubborn, determined and downright tunneled vision when it came to getting the job done and in this case he had wanted to find Dad. The thing that really confused Sam was how the hell did Dean just walk out? Because Dean barely walked to the bathroom without help and of course then there were the nurses. How could they not have noticed him? So worrying was a given and finding Dean soon…well Sam just wasn’t so sure.

“Ron what’ve we got?” a deep voice boomed from behind Sam. He turned to see two police officers enter the hospital lobby.

“You called the police?” Sam asked surprised to see the uniformed officers strutting towards them. Like his Dad and older brother Sam had never been too keen to interact with the authorities. In the hunting business more often than not you lived on the wrong side of the law and he had been escorted across way too many county lines to feel comfortable around the police.

“Normal procedure son,” Ron explained. “Don’t worry it’s just a precaution and experience has taught me that it’s best not to waste time in these sorts of situations. The most important thing is finding your brother and we may need more resources than what I have here to accomplish that.” 

“Okay that makes sense,” replied Sam.

Ron walked over to the police officers. “Frank, Ted good to see you guys. Well…” he consulted a notepad. “We’ve got a Code Walker Adult. Name’s Dean Winchester, a twenty-seven year old white male who recently woke from a month long coma with the mental age of a five year old. He has a number of serious health problems, walks with a limp due to a broken leg from a MVA approximately six weeks ago. Dean was the victim of rape prior to the MVA; the suspects escaped and are still at large. He was last seen in is his room by his brother here,” Ron pointed to Sam who half waved at the police officers. 

Sam was impressed that Ron had quickly gathered so much information from his team. It strengthened his belief that the man would conduct a thorough search and hopefully find Dean before something happened to him. 

“Dean’s six foot one, brown hair, green eyes, he’s wearing loafers, grey sweat pants and a white t-shirt and he’s carrying a teddy bear dressed as a fireman and the bear’s name is C.S. Fubar,” Ron added with a smile. “We’ve searched the ward, the floor, all stairwells and storerooms. My men are currently in the process of searching the other floors but it seems no-one saw him and…”

 

**“Victor 2-9 to Victor 2-2.”**

 

“I’ll just take this; you folks excuse me for a moment.” Ron moved away slightly to talk on his radio but he was near enough for Sam and the police to listen to the exchange between the security personnel.

 

**“Go ahead Victor 2-9.”**

**“Victor 2-7 and I checked the fourth, fifth and six floors, no sign of him and no sightings either by staff or visitors.”**

**“Roger Victor 2-9, return to lobby.”**

**“Copy Victor 2-2, on my way.”**

**“Victor 2-2 to Victor 2-7.**

**“Victor 2-7 here boss.”**

**“Victor 2-7 head up to the roof just in case he’s got up there.”**

**“On my way. Victor 2-7 out.”**

 

“The roof?” Sam couldn’t keep the astonishment out of his voice. If walking ten feet was a struggle for Dean then the roof was simply out of the question.

One of the policemen explained, “Gotta check everywhere son. Just because it ain’t likely doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

Sam nodded. He understood what they were getting at but he had serious doubts that they would find Dean there.

 

**“Victor 2-3 to Victor 2-2. Boss Victor 2-5 and I are done up here; searched floors one, two and three. Found nothing either. He just vanished.”**

**“People don’t just vanish Victor 2-3. They get lost or someone takes them but they don’t just vanish.”**

 

 _They do in my line of work_ , thought Sam hoping that this wasn’t one of those times. The last thing the Winchesters needed was to have to hunt down some supernatural entity to find Dean. 

 

**“Victors 2-3 and 2-5 return to lobby.”**

**“Affirmative. Victors 2-3 and 2-5 on our way.”**

 

Sam listened with mounting dread to the radio chit chat and he just knew deep down that Dean wasn’t in the hospital. How Dean got out and where he went well that was another matter but right now all Sam felt was a gnawing fear that told him Dean was outside, lost and cold and they needed to find him quickly before he died from exposure or worse.

 

**“Victor 2-7 to Victor 2-2.”**

**“Go ahead.”**

**“I’m on the roof boss. There’s snow everywhere but no sign of our Code Adam and no footprints except mine.”**

**“Copy that Victor 2-7. Return to lobby for reassignment.”**

**“Affirmative Victor 2-7 out.”**

 

“Okay well that covers the inside Frank. I got patrols out in the grounds but they haven’t found anything either. Honestly Frank the kid can barely walk so how the hell could he have gotten down two floors and outside without being seen? I mean it’s not like he could blend in, he’s wearing a t-shirt for fucks sake and it’s snowing and if that didn’t give it away he’s carrying a goddamn teddy bear. Jeez what does it take in this country for people to click that that just ain’t normal?”

“Unless he didn’t just wander off,” Frank stated matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean?” Sam tasted bile rising in his mouth; he didn’t like where this was going. “What else would he have done?”

“Son your brother was the victim of rape recently?”

Sam winced at the word. “Yes.”

“What happened?” Ted the other officer asked.

“My Dad, Dean and I were at a bar. Dean went out to the car park to get his jacket. He must’ve got jumped.” Sam had told this story so often that even he was beginning to believe it himself. Looking suitably upset by the memory he continued quietly. “Dad and I searched for him. We found him in an alley and these two guys…” his voice cracked with emotion. “They were…you know.” He coughed to clear his throat. “They ran off when they saw us. Dean, he was hurt bad. We carried him to the car and we were heading to the hospital when a truck hit us and well here we are.” Sam shrugged and hoped he was just as convincing as the first time he told the story.

“So the assailants escaped? Did you or your Daddy get a look at their faces?”

“No Sir. It was dark.”

“Well it’s possible they came back here to finish the job.”

“What? No!” Sam put on his best “ _oh my god you’re kidding_ ” voice. “How? Why? We were driving to a hospital in Jefferson City. We were airlifted to Columbia after the crash because this is a bigger center. How could they find us here?” 

Sam always knew their cover story would come back to bite them on the ass and now it had. Dean could be right under their noses and the police wouldn’t notice him because they were looking for fictitious attackers who had revenge on their minds. In an odd sort of way Sam would have felt better if a couple of bad guys had taken his brother because then he could concentrate on something tangible but Dean just disappearing well that was hard to take. No leads, no signs, no Dean and no-one took him or at least Sam hoped they hadn’t.

“Bad folks have ways boy. Trust me I know. They may have thought that your brother could identify them but we’re only guessing here. Now I don’t want you to worry about this; we just want to look at it from all angles. Where’s your Dad now son?”

“I called him as soon as I realized Dean was missing.” Sam didn’t want to explain that the call was a hasty “ _no time to talk get here as quick as you can; something’s happened to Dean_ ” call. “He’s on his way. He’s been looking for somewhere for us to live so that Dean had a home to go to when they let him out of here.” 

“Good. Well you stay close now and we’ll get things underway.” Turning to Ron, Ted asked, “You got any ideas on what happened Ron?”

“Well I interviewed the staff up on the ward personally. Seems they were _preoccupied_ at the time Dean disappeared,” Ron rolled his eyes but said no more. Hospital policy probably prevented him from saying what he really thought. Sam wondered if that’s why Ron didn’t like the lawyer. Maybe in the past he had been told to be guarded when there was potential for hospital liability. “My boys searched the building and found no trace of him and if he was in the grounds we would have found him by now. The kid can’t walk that good and there’s snow and ice out there. The conditions would have slowed him down and I would have expected to see him in a heap on the ground but there’s no sign of him. Just don’t think he could have managed to make it out there under his own steam. Right now my money is on those bastards from the attack. With the nurses occupied they probably just whisked him away down the stairs.”

“Thanks Ron we’ll take over from here.” Ted turned to his partner and simply said, “Call it in Frank”

 

**“Dispatch Bravo 5-5-4 10-97 Bowie County Hospital. Liaising with hospital security. Victim is a Code Walker Adult J12 nonviolent. Possible abduction. Request IMT to be set up in lobby. Description on its way.”**

**“Copy that Bravo 5-5-4 IMT will be dispatched to your location. Dispatch to all units in the vicinity of Bowie County Hospital 10-12 Code Walker Adult. Description sent to MDT.”**

 

“So Ron you got any security footage for us to look at?” Ted asked as he looked around the lobby checking for cameras.

“We do. My boys are pulling it together now. We cover all high risk areas such as the lobby, ER and dispensary, as well as the standard exit points on all floors so the elevators are covered. We have a camera in each ward to monitor the halls and all ground floor external doors, loading docks and car parks are monitored too. The major corners of the building also have wide angled cameras as do the bus stops. Basically if he left the building or the grounds we should be able to see where and how. You want to look at it now?”

“We’ll hold off until the team gets here. Just have one of your boys ready for them.”

“No problems. They’ll be ready when you give the word.” 

***************************************

“Sam? What the hell happened?” John roared as he burst through the lobby doors. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam cringed and it took all of his will power to not take a step back on seeing his father’s fury. He was already swinging between “ _It’s all my fault_ ” and “Dad will kill me” and now face to face with his father he was almost speechless.

“I…I…Dad I don’t know. I’m so sorry. He just disappeared…” he trailed off as tears welled in his eyes. 

“What?” John thundered. “Disappeared how?”

Sam didn’t know where to start and while he knew Dean hadn’t been taken by imaginary rapists part of him was worried that maybe, just maybe someone had taken him. More frightening was the thought that this was some sort of supernatural revenge for killing the demon. The only thing Sam knew for sure was that Dean wasn’t capable of just walking out on his own and yet there was no sign of his brother. He had simply vanished. 

Sam’s head was spinning with scenarios and try as he might he wasn’t able to conjure up a vision of what had happened or where Dean was. Once again he felt his psychic abilities had failed him. Since the demon’s demise and the accident his “powers” were non-existent but Sam didn’t have time to wonder why that was just now. He was struggling too much with the here and now to care and he didn’t even notice that he had started to sway on his feet.

John firmly gripped his arm, led him to a chair, sat him down and pushed his head between his knees. “Sit! Breathe!” But his terse tone belied his concern as he crouched down in front of his youngest son. “I’m sorry. I’m worried about your brother. What happened to him Sam?” His voice was almost a whisper and it was as much because he didn’t want to make a further scene as because a lifetime of hunting made him secretive and cautious when discussing potentially unrealistic, perhaps even supernatural situations. 

John’s quieter tone unnerved Sam further and he raised his head to face his father. “He just disappeared. No struggle, no blood, no noise. Poof! No more Dean. I was away nine, ten minutes max and when I got back he was gone. Dad…I’m…you don’t think something took him do you?”

John rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease the mounting tension. Did he think this was something otherworldly? “Anyone or anything wanting to get back at us could have taken any of us out in those first few days after the accident. Why now? No reason to think it’s related to something supernatural. The Demon’s dead, so are some of his children…” He felt like he was rationalizing the situation but he wasn’t sure if it was for Sam’s or his own benefit. “I don’t know son. You get a chance to check the room out?”

“Yeah briefly,” Sam huffed, as he squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his throbbing temples. “It was clean. No EMF readings, no sulfur, no scorch marks, no black-eyed, red-eyed or yellowed villains and no Dean. I don’t know Dad. How did he walk out when he needs help to just stand up? If _something_ didn’t do it then someone did but who and why? And I think the hospital is worried they already had their lawyer down here.” He handed his Dad the lawyer’s card.

“Yeah well they should be Sammy because something’s not right here.”

“Mr. Winchester?”

John looked at the police officer looming over them. “John.” He replied as he stood to face the man. John never had much love of the authorities but he needed them now so he knew he had to be civil.

“John I’m Ted Markesan and this is my partner Frank Jones.” John looked behind the man to see another uniformed cop. “We were called in when hospital security failed to locate Dean on the ward.”

“How did Dean get out?” John asked the obvious question. “I mean there had to have been staff around, visitors, any one see anything?”

“Ron Peterson…hey Ron come over here will ya.” Ted waited until the other man had joined them. “Ron this here is Dean’s Dad, John. Ron is in charge of hospital security.”

John shook the man’s hand in a friendly manner but his voice brokered no nonsense. “Can someone tell me how a mentally and physically disabled man just walked out of the hospital? Sam raced down to the lobby to ring me to see when I was getting back to the ward because Dean was upset. I told him I was thirty minutes out and to go back to his brother and then I get a call not fifteen minutes later saying something was wrong. How? How did Dean move that fast? He can barely walk to the bathroom.” John’s voice was getting louder and louder as his anger grew.

“John I need you to stay calm,” Ted ordered as he motioned for the man to sit down. “You’re no good to either of your boys if you’re all riled up,” Ted sat in a chair opposite Sam and John. “Okay here’s what we’re going to do. We're going to set up a command post in the lobby and the Incident Management Team will then coordinate the search. We already have patrols on the lookout for Dean and his description has been sent to all units. Now it would really help if you have a photo of him.”

John nodded; he had seen the faces of countless missing persons on milk cartons over the years to know what they needed. He opened his wallet and pulled out a few photos. He shuffled through the old worn pictures until he found one of Dean in the Impala.

“This is probably the best one. Dean hasn’t changed much, since it was taken. His hair’s a bit of a mess at the moment, shorter, because he had this clot on the brain and they had to shave…” John’s voice cracked as he stared at the picture. “He’s a strong boy you know…was a strong boy.” 

Officer Markesan took the picture. “I’ll give this to IMT as soon as they get here. Don’t worry John we’ll give it back to you. So folks tell me about Dean and how you came to be in Missouri.”

John filled the officer in on what they were doing in the state, which of course didn’t include the part about hunting a demon. He also told them what they planned to do once Dean was well enough to leave hospital. He stuck to their original story about the bastards who hurt his boy and the crazed trucker and everything that happened since the accident. At least he could be honest about that part.

“Now about the rape? The men who did it, they got away?”

“Yeah but I’m sure they will burn in hell for hurting him.” _The Demon’s already there and I will probably follow for my part in it._

“I know how you feel,” the officer replied. 

Hmmm I don’t think so.  
.  
The officer continued, “But I do have some concerns that the assailants might have come back. John, Dean might have been abducted. We need to consider the fact that those men came here to finish what they started weeks ago.”

John just stared at him mouth agape, his face the perfect study of “ _oh no my poor boy._ ” Of course his mind was a whirl with thoughts of the police searching for two people who didn’t exist while Dean was probably lying cold and alone in the snow nearby.

“But Dean’s not a threat to anyone. He was hurt pretty bad from the…” John’s hand flailed in the air as the word stuck in his throat. “And when the truck hit us well it just about killed him. Now Dean is twenty seven years old and thinks like a five year old. When he gets nervous he stutters. He used to do it all the time after his mother died. He’s been having therapy to help strengthen his leg and help him to walk but the reality is his coordination is shot to pieces. He can’t read, can’t tie his shoelaces, some days he struggles to feed himself. He has good days and bad days but even on his good days they aren’t great if you know what I mean. He’s sweet and innocent and he spends the better part of the day cuddling his teddy bear.” John smiled at the memory.

“This bear, it’s called Fubar?”

John laughed. “Yeah. You should ask him why he called it that. Cracks me up every time…”

“The bear’s missing from his room.” Officer Markesan remarked.

“Doesn’t surprise me. He wouldn’t leave it behind. It’s his prized possession.”

Ted looked over at Sam who hadn’t uttered a word. “This is not your fault.”

“How can you say that?” Sam asked, pent up emotion bubbling just below the surface. “I knew he was upset and yet I left him alone.”

“You tell anyone you were stepping out?”

“Yes. I couldn’t just leave him without someone to look after him. I settled Dean in a chair in the room, put on his loafers, covered his legs with a blanket and told him I would go talk to Dad. I remember he kept yelling for me to come back but I figured that I would be gone only a few minutes and that he would be alright. I told the nurses and when I got back about ten minutes later I asked them if he was okay. They told me they hadn’t heard a sound but when I went to his room the blanket was on the floor, and Dean and the bear were gone.”

“Was there any sign of a disturbance?”

“No other than the blanket on the floor everything looked normal,” but Sam wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing considering the scenarios flitting through his mind. 

“So what did you do when you didn’t see him in the room?”

“Checked the bathroom, the corridor and then asked the nurses if he had been taken somewhere.”

“And what did they tell you?”

“Nothing! They just laughed at me,” he shook his head thinking about their callous reaction to his question. “They then admitted that no-one had checked on him thinking he was just throwing a tantrum and that he would stop calling out soon enough or that I would get back and he would calm down. They just didn’t care about him.”

Ted called to the head of hospital security. “Ron the room sealed off up there?”

“Yeah once we got word he was missing I sent a guard up there to seal it off. Frank’s gone up there to have a look around.”

“Good. So Ron is there anyway Dean can get off the floor without passing the nurses?”

“Well the nurses’ station sits in the middle of the ward between two long corridors. Dean’s room is the last room on the right-hand side of the ward. If he came out of his room and turned left to head to the elevator he would pass the nurses and the internal stairs. If came out of his room and turned right he would be ten feet from the visitors’ lounge which has an external fire exit. If anyone breached the fire door to those stairs an alarm would show up on the fire panel in the security office. My guess is the boy was whisked past the nurses while they were busy and taken outside via the internal stairwell. Since Dean has been attacked before then there’s a strong possibility that they had been waiting for a chance to nab him and as luck would have it they got that chance today when Sam left the room.”

Sam put his head in his hands, “I shouldn’t have left him.”

Ted understood the boy’s pain. He had seen this sort of anguish countless times on the faces of relatives looking for loved ones. “Sam this hospital has a responsibility to monitor its patients. It’s not up to the families to sit on point duty in case their loved one up and wanders off.” He leant forward and quietly stated, “Look folks you didn’t hear it from me but if I were you I would be getting myself a good lawyer and asking questions about duty of care. What happened tonight was avoidable and now we have a missing person. Believe me when I say this isn’t your fault; there’s nothing you did or didn’t do that caused this. Understood?”

“Yeah,” they replied although neither of them really believed that. There were far too many “ _ifs_ to make John or Sam feel comfortable right now. The only thing the Winchesters knew for sure was that Dean was gone.

 

**“Victor 2-6 to Victor 2-2.”**

**“Go ahead.”**

**“Boss you want me to lock the emergency exit door on floor two just yet or keep it open a bit longer?”**

**“Victor 2-2 to Victor 2-6. Did you unlock the door to assist the investigation?”**

**“Nah boss we usually close it when it gets dark and I thought I’d better check about it, seeing as we have a Code Adam.”**

**“Victor 2-6 that door should be sealed at all times; it’s a fire door.”** Ron thought for a moment and then the whole situation fell into place. **“Victor 2- 6 stand-by.”**

 

Ron called over one of his guards, “George you checked the door leading to the external stairs on the second floor?” The man nodded he had. “Was it open or closed?”

“Chocked open as usual boss.” The man calmly reported.

John and Sam listened to the discussion between the men with mounting horror as the implications of the door being left open hit them hard.

“What do you mean chocked open?” Ron asked genuinely surprised by the admission. “That door is an _Emergency Exit Only_ door? Why hasn’t the security control room ever called us asking why the door was open?”

“As far as I know boss they used to when we first started leaving it open but then they stopped calling because old Stan, the boss before you told them that we needed it open during the day.”

“But _why_ is it open?”

“Well the nurses on that floor like to have their breaks out there and they asked if we could leave the door open for them. It means they get a few more minutes on their break since they don’t have to go downstairs to smoke. We usually lock it at night though; don’t want the wrong sort of people in the hospital.”

Ron roared at the man in front of him. “And just how long has this been going on?”

“Close to a year now,” he answered seemingly unaware of the seriousness of the security breach. “No-one ever complained before and old Stan said it was okay as long as we locked it once it got dark and we do.” The man replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

Ron took a steadying breath and faced the Winchesters. “I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t know. I should’ve known but I didn’t.”

John surged out of his seat and flew at the man. Officer Markesan quickly placed himself between the men facing John but John still managed to grab Ron’s shirt in an iron fist as he tried to haul the man closer to him. Sam stood ready to assist his father if necessary but stayed put waiting to see how the situation unfolded. 

“John calm down.” Officer Markesan ordered. “Clocking Ron here won’t bring Dean back. Settle down. I don’t want to have to arrest you for assault.”

It made little difference John was in a rage. How much more did his family have to suffer he wondered? “My son is out there in the freezing cold. He is sick and he can’t look after himself and you’re _sorry_.” John spat the words at the security chief. “You got kids Ron? You know where your kids are huh? My kids are all I got. Their mother burnt to death in a fire and I brought ‘em up by myself. I may not be the best Dad around but I love them then more than life itself and these past seven weeks have been a living hell knowing they were hurt and now my oldest son is missing from the one place I was sure he would be safe in. Now, because you people can’t do your job right, he is out in the dark and the snow and who knows what else has happened to him and you’re sorry. You son of a bitch! If you and the rest of the people in this damn place had done their jobs none of this would’ve happened. Unsealed doors, staff who don’t give a rat’s ass about their patients, what sort of place is this?”

 

*************************************************

**GLOSSARY**

**Bravo xxx** \- Police squad car designation Bxxx  
 **Code 1** – Emergency  
 **Code 2** \- Proceed with lights and sirens  
 **Code Adam** \- An infant, child or adult patient missing from a hospital  
 **Code Walker Adult** \- Adult,18 years or older, missing from a hospital; it’s a subcategory of the Code Adam identification system

 **IMT** \- Incident Management Team  
 **MDT** \- Mobile Data Terminal  
 **MVA** \- Motor Vehicle Accident  
 **Vxx** \- Call sign for security staff

 **J2** \- Mentally ill  
 **10-4** – Affirmative  
 **10-12** – Standby  
 **10-76** \- Traveling to location  
 **10-97** \- Arrived at scene

*****************************************

 **Chapter 10** \- _10-45_

 

"Don’t be too hard on us John,” a voice from behind him passionately pleaded.

Without letting go of Ron, John turned to face the one person who he knew cared about what happened to his son. His voice was thick with pent up emotion and grief said, “Mary they lost him!”

“And the police will find him John. Have a little faith and a lot of hope. That boy has gone to hell and back these past weeks and if nothing else he’s shown again and again how strong and determined he is. Now let go of the nice man and come sit down and Sam?” 

She started to say but the younger Winchester was one step ahead of her. “I know. Sweet tea with biscuits,” he replied, a tired smile on his lips as he headed off to the cafeteria.

John reluctantly let go of Ron and followed Mary to a nearby chair.

“None of you deserve what has happened but lashing out won’t bring Dean back.”

“Would make _me_ feel better,” John muttered.

“Rubbish man. That arm might be out of a cast but it isn’t strong yet. One punch and it would be back in plaster. Now sit back here and we will wait for Dean together.”

“Mary, I…I…” John was never very good at saying thank you but he felt he should try in this case. 

Life throughout the years had been lonely for the Winchesters, alienated from family and friends and now for the first time in a very long while John realized they had a friend. Friends were just something you couldn’t have as a hunter. You had contacts or associates but an honest to goodness _“I’ll be there for you always”_ friend was a luxury they couldn’t afford until now. It was a little overwhelming for John to grasp that his life was changing so rapidly from his Demon hunting days just a few weeks ago. Sadly though it was changing largely because Dean had been so badly hurt and John couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if the Demon had killed outright and there had been no rape or accident and they had survived that last encounter unscathed? Would they have all shook hands and gone their own way? Who knows? What he does know is that his life now is all about creating a future for his sons and right this minute it’s all about finding Dean but at least he won’t be alone as he does both. “Thank you,” he told Mary.

“Anytime John,” she replied. “Besides I have grown quite fond of you three and I’m not about to abandon you in your hour of need.”

A flurry of activity interrupted any further conversation as the IMT arrived and set up. John was introduced to the IC, given an overview of the situation and asked to stay nearby in case he was required. The general opinion was that Dean could not have left the hospital by himself; that in turn meant he was abducted and that created a whole new set of circumstances for the team to look at. In the blink of an eye the team had established abductor profiles, grid searches with road and foot patrols and notified the media. It was all business and efficiency and their systematic search methods gave John a small measure of comfort because that was how he approached his hunts; gather the information, lay out a plan of action and attack the problem forewarned and fully armed. 

******************************************

Sam returned with tea for them all and sat down slightly shell-shocked by the frenetic activity now taking place in the lobby. 

“We should be out looking for him,” Sam stressed to his Dad.

“I don’t think that’s a smart idea,” a new voice stated. 

Sam stood up to greet the tall thirty-something woman who had appeared in their midst. “I’m sorry and you are?” He asked slightly annoyed that she had interrupted a private discussion.

“Officer Lisa Warren, IMT Liaison Officer. My job is to keep you informed of what we are doing, progress we are making and…”

“Ensuring we don’t complicate things by searching for him ourselves?” Sam asked daring her to argue with him.

“Right,” her smile was genuine and open and Sam couldn’t help but grin back. “But more importantly we prefer that you stay here because when we find Dean this is where he will be brought to and he will want his family here. The last thing he needs is to arrive back at the hospital to find his family is five miles away looking in dumpsters. So please folks stay close, pester us, vent or do whatever you need to get through this but don’t run off halfcocked. I’m here for you so please ask for my help if you need it.”

John accepted what she was saying for now but if this dragged on he intended to be out there searching but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “What are Dean’s chances?” He asked hoping to get a straightforward answer and not a _“keep the family happy”_ reply.

“John is it?” John nodded, she had done her homework. “The rule is staying dry means staying alive. Dean is outside lightly dressed and it’s snowing. As the snow melts he gets wet. Water takes heat away from the body twenty-five times faster than air so the longer he is out there in wet clothes the worse it will be for him. If the wind picks up then it will aggravate his condition. Basically we’re against the clock and the sooner we find him the better obviously.”

“And what if someone took him?” John didn’t want to believe it but somehow that seemed to be the most logical explanation since there was no way Dean could have walked unaided out of the hospital.

“Well that’s the catch-22 isn’t it? If he was taken then he may be protected from the weather which is a good thing but then he is also at the mercy of his abductor’s intentions which is a bad thing. So John your son is in danger and the worst case scenario is that someone took him and then left him lying somewhere in a back alley, hurt and exposed to the elements.”

“You don’t hold back,” John replied curtly.

“I’ve always found it better to be upfront. Look I know this is a tough time for you and from what I already know this is the last thing any of you need right now. However I need you to stay calm and focused and please remember while things aren’t great they aren’t desperate yet either.”

“Okay,” John replied. “And when do you people decide things are desperate?”

“When we have a body on a slab!”

It was brutally honest but she got her point across. The police don’t give up and neither should they.

“John I promise you that we will do everything we can to locate Dean, you just have to trust us to do our job.”

John had always been a man of action but now he had to trust that they knew what they were doing. So he sat back, threw his hands in the air in defeat and resignedly replied, “Okay.”

“Okay then. Well I will get back to you soon unless of course you come and hunt me down,” she said with a warm smile before heading back to the IMT.

 _If only she knew that hunting is what we do best,_ Sam thought as he watched her walk away.

********************************************

They waited, hoped and wondered what had become of Dean. Mary was their anchor, her calm presence comforting in a way words could never express. She brought a steady determination that Dean would be found and she encouraged them to have patience, to hang in there and to wait. It wasn't the Winchester way, to sit back and let someone else do the job, especially the authorities but the irony of this situation was that now after years of butting heads with the police John and Sam had to trust them because Dean’s life depended on it.

 

**“Dispatch, Charlie 3-3-1 we have a 10-57 on Johnson Street. 10-52 required. Victim said vehicle was light colored, possibly a Corolla. Victim was unable to see the plates. ”**

**“Copy Charlie 3-3-1. Do you need assistance?”**

**“Negative dispatch. We are 10-7 until further advised.”**

**“Copy Charlie 3-3-1.”**

 

So they sat quietly in a corner of the lobby and listened. They listened to the IMT explain what they were doing; they listened to the security staff discuss the situation and they listened to the continuous radio transmissions hoping to catch a clue as to what had happened to Dean.

 

**“Dispatch Adam 4-9-8. 10-28, 1-9-3-Xray-Delta-Foxtrot Kildare street.”**

**“Stand-by Adam 4-9-8.”**

 

The Winchesters knew all too well what was being relayed over the airways. John had taught the boys the tens code along with their A B Cs. Their understanding of the jargon was honed by years of listening to police radio traffic on scanners. The reports from numerous patrols to dispatch were routine and more often than not they exposed the seedy underbelly of life in a city. However, on this night it was the calls to the IMT that really made the Winchesters sit up and listen because they were the ones that potentially related to Dean…

 

**“Bravo 5-3-7 to IMT.”**

**“Go ahead bravo 5-3-7.”**

**“We’ve located a teddy bear near the employee parking lot. Confirm Code Adam was carrying a bear dressed as a fireman?”**

**“Affirmative Bravo 5-3-7. Mark the area for forensics, bag and tag the bear as evidence and bring it to this location.”**

**“Copy IMT Bravo 5-3-7 out.”**

 

Sam leapt to his feet. “It’s Dean’s. It has to be. No-one else would have one like it right?” Of course what was going through his mind was that if the bear was found and Dean never let it go then Dean must be nearby. For the first time since he had discovered that Dean was missing Sam had some real _this will all be over soon_ hope.

It didn’t take long for the bear to be brought into the IMT and everyone held their breath as John looked at the toy in the clear plastic evidence bag. ‘It’s Dean’s,” he solemnly announced and the room burst into a new round of frenzied activity as police were directed to search anew the area near where the bear was found.

“So Dean could be nearby; maybe he fell and is sitting somewhere, maybe he’s too hurt to come back inside. You did check that area before right?” Sam asked the assembled group but no-one answered him and in fact Sam had the distinct impression they knew more than they were letting on.

Amid the clamor of radio chatter and IMT directives, Lisa Warren approached the Winchesters. “I need you to come and look at the security footage. We know how Dean got outside but…”

“But what?” asked John slightly surprised by her hesitance since she had been so forthright earlier.

“I need you to see if you can identify the men who took him.”

Sam couldn’t believe what he heard. The rape story had been a lie. He had invented it to ensure their father wasn’t arrested for aggravated assault and attempted murder. Yet despite the odds it would seem that Dean had been the victim of flesh and blood abductors after all; real people who had taken his brother for who knows what reason. 

“Why? Why would someone take him?”

“Sam it may be the men from Dean’s previous assault,” she explained to the stunned young man. “If Dean had seen their faces then he is a threat to them.” 

“But…” But _what_ he angrily thought. It’s not like he could announce to everyone that the story was fabricated. He couldn’t just say, _sorry made it all up to help Dad out; he did it by the way; raped my brother but hey the man was possessed at the time so no hard feelings._ Yeah that would go down really well. They would be arrested for perverting the course of justice and Dean would still be missing. No the truth would have to stay locked away and they had to deal with the situation as it stood. The reality was Dean had been abducted by a couple of strangers. Why? Who knows but as Dean always said _Demons I get, people are crazy._ This was one of those situations where a couple of crazy people had Dean and John and Sam had to get him back.

While Sam grappled with the absurdity of the situation, John simply stared at the ground unable to speak or move and too stunned to comprehend that his son had been taken from a hospital. After all the hunts they had done, all the chances they had taken and yet it was from here where there was no hunt and no threat that someone had abducted his son.

 _Dean should have been safe here,_ he bitterly thought.

“John?” Lisa spoke quietly to him. “John I need your help on this.”

Mary O’Brien gently placed her hand on John’s arm, “Come on John, Dean needs you.”

He took a steadying breath, set his jaw and looked Officer Warren squarely in the eye; “Show me,” he growled, his anger at the situation simmering just below the surface.

*************************************

They walked in silence to the security office where they were greeted by Ron Peterson, a handful of police and security personnel and Wilson Turnbull, the hospital lawyer.

“Mr. Winchester, I’m Wilson Turnbull, hospital attorney…”

“Not now!” John snarled at the little man. The last thing he needed was to listen to some smarmy tripe from a man who was only interested in proving the hospital wasn’t to blame for this disaster.

The group assembled around the security monitors as the silent, grainy images flashed by. “Okay this is Dean’s ward taken from the corridor camera,” Ron explained. “It’s a long distance shot but there he is coming out of his room, he leans against the doorframe for balance and see this guy?” Ron pointed to an unidentified person heading down the corridor. “He comes and helps Dean into the visitor lounge. We see this man exit the lounge a few minutes later and head out of the ward via the elevators. We’re pretty sure he works at the hospital because he just seems too confident as he makes his way around the ward. Another thing most folks would call for a nurse if they saw a patient needing help, he doesn’t which means he knows all about Dean and his current health...problems,” he added unsure of how to say Dean was not in his right mind at the moment.

“This guy,” John pointed to the man on the screen. “I’ve seen him before. He brings the meals on Dean’s floor. He always talked to Dean, seemed friendly enough. I wouldn’t have pegged him for someone intent on hurting him.”

Ron turned behind him and called to one of the security staff hovering at the back of the room. “Steve go down to IMT and tell them the perp works for food services on the second floor and see what they can find. It’ll save time if we can narrow the search field.”

“You got it boss,” Steve called as he rushed out of the room.

“We next pick Dean up on the camera monitoring the visitors lounge emergency exit stairs,” the security officer stated. “He has come down the stairs and is outside…”

An image of Dean in his less than adequate clothing, clutching his bear, appeared on the screen. He was being helped along by a man that John didn’t recognize. The man seemed kind and supportive but the reality was he was taking Dean away from the hospital not back to the ward so his intentions were obviously dubious. Furthermore what John couldn’t fathom was why Dean went with him. Dean had been taught as a child not to talk to strangers and even when he awoke from the coma he told Nurse O’Brien in his childlike way that he couldn’t talk to her because she was a stranger. So John was at a loss as to why Dean would go with someone he didn’t know and he wondered what this man had said to lure to his son away so easily.

“See they move slowly towards the employee parking lot where they are joined by the guy who had helped Dean out of his room. Dean seems very animated but the guy, the one who helped him down the stairs; he puts his finger on Dean’s lips as if to say shhh.” 

John and Sam could see all too clearly what was happening. “Any idea what Dean’s saying?” John asked as he watched his eldest son frantically looking from one man to the other as if awaiting an answer.

“Afraid not; the camera angle is off slightly so we can see it’s them but it’s not clear enough to make out what they are saying.” Ron explained. “So we follow them a little further and as they near the corner of the parking lot Dean stumbles which seems to be the catalyst for the men getting into an argument. It looks like the hospital guy wants to take Dean back to the stairs but his buddy stops him. A scuffle breaks out between the men and Dean tries to escape but he falls and drops the bear as he hits the icy ground. This is where we found the bear by the way…”

John could see the rising panic in Dean’s expression and something else he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Dean appeared confused and kept looking around as if trying to get his bearings. He obviously knew he needed to get away from the men but try as he might he couldn’t stand up without something to hold on to so he began to crawl away. 

Mary O’Brien wiped the tears from her eyes as she watched the scene unfold. She just couldn’t believe that someone would prey on an innocent soul like Dean and it broke her heart to see him so afraid. She prayed these men wouldn’t hurt him but in her heart she knew that if they had intended to look after him then they wouldn’t have taken him in the first place.

Sam simply stared at the image of his older brother who was desperately trying to flee his abductors. Dean, who never backed away from a fight, was now frantically trying to find a safe place to hide but he never had a chance and Sam and everyone else in that room knew it.

Despite his efforts Dean didn’t get very far before the man from the stairs hauled him to his feet and slapped him across his face. Dean instinctively threw his arms up to ward off further blows and all the while he kept talking, much to his abductor’s dismay it would seem by the look on his face. 

“I’m so sorry Dean,” Sam whispered to the image on the screen.

“Sam this is not your fault,” said John quietly but firmly. “There _are_ people to blame here but you are not one of them.”

Sam nodded but he didn’t believe it for a minute. Regardless of what the staff did or didn’t do if Sam had stayed in the room with his brother then Dean would be safe and no amount of telling him he had no part in what happened was going to ease his fears or his guilt.

Ron called their attention back to the monitor, “As you can see Dean doesn’t stop talking. He is obviously asking for something but the stairs guy seems to be yelling at him to shut up. Whatever he says it’s enough to make Dean back away and he falls again. By the way and I’m no doctor, but from the way he fell I’m guessing he hurt his wrist. See how he put his hand down to break his fall. My guess is he may have broken it or at least sprained it. Either way he seems to be in pain,” Ron added. “Anyway the guy has obviously had enough or maybe he was getting scared that someone would hear the all the noise anyway he pulls out a gun and…”

There was an audible gasp from John, Sam and Mary as they watched the man point the gun at Dean as he lay prostrate on the ground. Dean never stopped talking which seemed to make the situation worse. They could clearly see the look of terror on his face but he never backed down. The stairs man finally gave into his frustration and hit Dean on the side of the head with the pistol. 

“Shit!” John exclaimed he watched Dean, clearly unconscious, fall backwards onto the ground. For just a brief second it looked as if the men would leave him behind but after what looked like a heated discussion about what to do with him, they lifted him up between them, walked into the parking lot and disappeared from view. 

The room was silent until Ron quietly added, “We pick them again as they exit the parking lot driving an early model light colored Corolla.”

“I didn’t see Dean in the car?” Sam pointed out, still clinging to the fragile hope that Dean had been left in a storage room or stairwell at the multi-story car park.

Lisa Warren explained, “We assume that because he was unconscious he was unable to sit up but most likely even if was awake they would have hidden him to avoid detection as they drove away. Of course that seems a bit foolish considering they were picked up by every security camera from here to the road. Still while they may not be smart they are dangerous and they just jumped on our most wanted list for abduction, rape, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon, grievous bodily harm and a host of other charges. So that means when we get them and we will get they won’t be getting out of jail anytime soon.”

It was cold comfort for the Winchesters considering these men still had Dean.

“Any leads on the car yet?” John asked knowing that they would have said if they had but needing to hear the answer anyway.

“No, but we did get the license plate, which we’re following that up.”

“Good,” replied John gruffly.

“Look why don’t the three of you come and sit down out in the lobby? We’ll get you something to eat and I’ll go get an update on how the search is going?” Lisa suggested.

John nodded. There was nothing more they could do in here and looking at the image of his son being lured to an uncertain fate made his blood run cold.

He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “Come on son.”

“Just a minute Dad,” Sam replied eyes fixed on the screen. “Ron can you rewind it to where Dean was talking just before the guy hit him. I might be able to work out what he was saying?”

“Sure kid.”

Ron rewound the footage and both John and Sam leaned closer, focusing on Dean. John gripped the back of a chair as his terrified son reappeared before them. It was image he would he never forget along with a myriad of other memories from recent weeks now forever etched in his mind. 

Sam gasped, eyes transfixed on the image of his brother. “I know…I know what he’s saying,” Sam quietly told them. “See there just before the guy knocks him out? There’s this look in his eyes. It’s as if he knew what was going happen and…and he calls out for you Dad. He said, _Dad? Dad help me.”_

“Fuck.” John ran a hand over his face as he tried to reign in his emotions. It was bad enough to watch these men hurt his boy but to know what Dean had said just made it all the more heartbreaking that he wasn’t there to save him. John and his sons had dedicated the better part of their lives to hunting and eliminating evil supernatural things and yet his son had been taken by two low-life mortals who cared nothing for Dean or what he had already suffered.

It was in that moment when the emotions began to overwhelm him that John realized that Sam hadn’t moved. His gaze was fixed on the image of an unconscious Dean on the snowy ground. John could see that there was more to this than Sam was letting on, so pushing his own anguish aside, he leant in close to his son and quietly asked, “Sam did he say something else?”

Sam never looked away from the monitor but he nodded his head.

“What did he say son?” 

In a voice barely audible he replied, “ _Where’s Sam? What did you do to my brother?”_

The implication of Dean’s words was simple. Dean may have been worried about their Dad but when Sam left that room Dean had panicked and had gone to look for his brother not their father. 

John finally had the answer as to why Dean went with the men. They must have told him they knew where Sam was. It would be the only thing to make Dean forget all he had been taught, because the need to look after Sam outweighed his own personal safety.

“He was looking for me. I thought he was looking for you Dad but he left because of me,” Sam’s voice was pained and there wasn’t a soul in that room that didn’t feel for the young man. “If I had stayed with him he would be alright. Now try and tell me this isn’t my fault.” All Sam’s strength seemed to leave him as he sat down heavily and placed his head in his hands. 

John leaned passed him and switched off the screen, “Come on Sam,” he said. “You didn’t cause this. The nurses should have been there and that door shouldn’t have been left open. This is a hospital Sam not a motel. You are allowed to leave patients in their rooms and expect that they will be there when you come back. There’s supposed to be people here to look out for those who can’t look after themselves. We stayed with Dean because we loved him. You left him to find out where I was because you knew he was worried and you didn’t want him to be upset. Everything you did was out of love and if he left to find you it was because he loves you too. He wouldn’t blame you for this but when he is well again he will probably have a lot to say about the absence of duty of care by those who claim to have the best interest of the patient at heart and yet clearly didn’t care enough today. They let Dean down Sam. So let’s focus on getting him back so that he can have his say.” 

John eased his son to his feet and led him towards the door. “Come on let’s get out of here and see what the police have found out.” 

As they passed Wilson Turnbull the lawyer sprang into action, “Mr. Winchester I want you to know the hospital takes full responsibility for this incident and those implicated in this situation will be dealt with appropriately. Furthermore I’m sure we can come to some sort of reasonable financial settlement…”

“Mr. Turnbull?” John’s tone was icy. “Do you know where my son is?”

“Well er…”

“Do you have any idea what those men are doing to Dean right this minute?”

“No…”

“Do you know if he is dead or alive?”

“I…I…no!”

“Well then when you have the answers to those questions come and see me again but until then leave me and my son the hell alone,” John said through gritted teeth before leaving the room.

****************************************

They made their way back to the lobby and settled down to wait for news. The radio traffic now a welcome distraction to thoughts of Dean and what might be happing to him. Lisa Warren returned with coffee and sandwiches and sat down to tell them how the search was progressing.

 

**“Dispatch, Adam 4-9-8 10-73, Lincoln Street.”**

**“Copy Adam 4-9-8.”**

 

“Okay we’ve found the car but,” she held her hand up to forestall their questions. “But as yet there is no sign of Dean or the two men,” she reported.

John sat up, “Where? When?” He asked.

 

**“Dispatch Adam 4-9-8. 10-32 Kildare Street.”**

**“Copy Adam 4-9-8. Do you require assistance?”**

**“Affirmative dispatch. 10-78.”**

 

“It’s parked outside an abandoned warehouse in a loading zone. A routine patrol picked it up about forty-five minutes ago before we knew it was wanted in Dean’s abduction. We were already looking for a vehicle similar to it in a hit and run around the time Dean was first reported missing. Seems these boys are hardcore and no-one is going to stand in their way so they just keep racking up the charges.”

 

 **“Dispatch Charlie 1-7-9 we’re heading east along Kildare 10-84 two minutes.**

 

“You think Dean is in the warehouse?” Sam asked dreading what might have happened to his brother.

 

**“Dispatch David 2-2-1. We’re heading south along Lincoln. Be advised we have a 10-70 abandoned warehouse located Lincoln and Kildare streets.”**

**“Copy David 2-2-1 unit dispatched.**

 

“The odds are he is inside but we won’t know until a search is completed,” she warned. “The warehouse is haven for drug users and squatters. We’ve sent units there to search for Dean but the place is large and the search may take a while especially since one of the men is armed. We don’t want Dean caught up in the middle of shoot out.”

 

**“Dispatch Adam 4-9-8 Shots fired. Officer down 10-52. 10-33. Repeat 10-33.”**

**“Copy Adam 4-9-8, 10-52 on its way. All units 10-33 Lincoln and Kildare streets Code 1. Proceed with caution.”**

 

The news was positive considering how dire the situation was and Sam’s spirits lifted somewhat now that they had a tangible lead on Dean’s whereabouts. He sat back and tried to come to terms with it all. “How long did all this take? You know between them taking him from the ward until they left in the car?”

“About fifteen minutes,” stated Lisa.

“So he was gone before I called the security staff?” Sam was dismayed. “That means while I was running around the ward looking for him he was already unconscious in the back seat of their car.” Sam couldn’t get his head around the fact it had all happened so quickly. “But he’s an adult and he’s sick. Why didn’t anyone notice and how the hell did they do it all so fast? I don’t understand. I just don’t know how could this have happened here no less?”

 

**“Dispatch Engine 19 10-12. We have a 10-41 Code 2, 10-75. Building known to house squatters from time to time. Police unable to determine if any souls inside.”**

**“Copy Engine 19.”**

 

“First off Sam let’s put this in perspective; everything about this case is classic abduction. It fits well documented abduction patterns and so we are deeply concerned for Dean’s mental and physical well-being right now. When the victim is an adult who is mentally impaired we tend to treat the case like we would for child abduction and with the rape thrown into the mix from weeks ago we are doing everything we can to find Dean quickly before more harm becomes him.”

 

 **“Rescue 1, Engine Companies 15, 23, and 26, Ladders 6 and 7, Squad 4, Unit 5 structural fire corner Lincoln and Kildare streets. Ladder 11 standby FAST truck.”**

 

Sam agreed, “And if he is in the warehouse they could be doing anything to…”

“Sam try not to think about the ‘what ifs.’ We are closing in on them and that’s good because all too often that never happens,” she added sadly. “As to why the abduction happened the way it did here’s a few facts for you to mull over. We know that many abductors are opportunistic. They act speedily seizing the moment to take their victim. If there are other people nearby, they may well be unaware that anything untoward has occurred unless the victim calls for help. So obviously speed is essential in this sort of crime and the time between first contact and the abduction is crucial and usually extremely short.”

 

**"Dispatch Battalion 22. We have multiple 10-45 Codes 1, 2 and 3, extra 10-44 required.”**

**“Acknowledged Battalion 22.”**

 

“In this case these men may have wanted to take Dean for some time but the opportunity never presented itself prior to today and while Dean is known to them, albeit briefly, they still acted opportunistically,” Lisa explained. “We assume that when the man took Dean to the visitor lounge he called his friend and told him the emergency door was open and to come and get Dean. The friend may well have already been waiting to pick up his pal at the end of the shift anyway which would explain how there almost no time between Dean going to the visitor lounge and then being seen at the bottom of the stairs.” 

John listened intently. There was no point in asking why they chose Dean because as far as the police were concerned the rape was the reason the men tracked him down. The reality was though that whoever these men were they had acted on the spur of the moment and unfortunately for Dean he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

**“Dispatch David 2-2-1, 10-48 Lincoln. Awaiting Fire Police.”**

**“Copy David 2-2-1.”**

 

Lisa continued, “Statistically we know that fifteen percent of all abductions happen to adults and every day around two thousand three hundred children and adults go missing, and for many of them like Dean, it is involuntary. The National Center for Missing Adults, the NCMA, has over forty eight thousand missing adults in their database. Approximately half of that number are male, four out of ten are white and about one-sixth have some level of psychiatric problem or disability such drug or alcohol addictions, dementia or like Dean are mentally impaired.”

“Non-family, as in stranger, abductions make up a small proportion of all missing persons and many end up as short-term abductions, up to twenty-four hours, where the victim is assaulted either physically or sexually and then released. If we add rape into these cases I can tell you that eighty percent of all rape victims are under the age of thirty, like Dean and about four percent of those are male and interestingly enough eighty-eight percent of forcible rapes are committed by a person of the same race and from what we can tell from the footage the men who took Dean are white.”

“Between forty and fifty percent of all abductions involve a weapon which is used to intimidate, threaten or harm the victim as we have seen them do to Dean and lastly a small proportion of victims are never released or are later located dead or remain missing presumed dead and that’s what we don’t want to happen tonight. We want to find Dean alive and unharmed.”

“So where does all this fit into what happened to Dean?” asked Sam. “He was in a hospital not out on the street or in a bar.” 

 

 **“Dispatch Battalion 22 require FAST truck; victims trapped.”**

 

“In that sense Dean’s case is atypical on two counts. Firstly, Dean was abducted in winter which is the least likely time for abduction and secondly, it is rare for an abduction to occur in a hospital but we believe the men were looking for an opportunity to get your brother so here was as good as any to make their move. Our guess is if you hadn’t interrupted them seven weeks ago, Dean would already be dead. And while we hope that Dean is in that small group of victims that are held and then released, we do feel that in this case it unlikely due to the earlier rape. We hope that he won’t be seriously hurt but as the footage we’ve seen here indicates these men won’t hesitate to use violence. So what we are working towards is ensuring that we locate these men and we find Dean alive. We don’t want him listed along with those forty eight thousand missing persons at NCMA and we don’t want him as a cold case file at the Doe Network for long term missing people. We want him back and we are pulling out all stops to ensure we get him back here safely. So finding the car was a huge step towards finding Dean.”

Sam was saddened that she knew the statistics by heart and he wondered how many times she had quoted those facts to worried family and friends like them. 

 

 **“Battalion 22 to all units. Urgent. Back out. We’re commencing an external operation. Roll call all personnel.”**

 

“So what now?” John asked.

“Well Dean’s photograph has been sent to all units and has been distributed to the media. We have used the freeway message boards, like in an Amber Alert, detailing his description and the men with him and while he may well be in that warehouse we won’t slack off in letting the community know he is a person at risk…”

A flurry of activity at the IMT desk caught their attention. The radio chatter was intense and something big was obviously in progress.

“What’s happened?” John asked as he rose to his feet. 

“Stay here please and I’ll go find out what’s going on.” Lisa headed to the IC to get an update.

 

 **“Dispatch Battalion 22 10-60 Lincoln and Kildare streets. Probably will hold; all units 10-99.”**

 

Sam stood next to his father watching the feverish activity of the IMT. 

 

Lisa returned; her expression guarded as she approached the Winchesters. “The warehouse where we believe Dean is being held is on fire,” she explained.

“Have they found him?” What John was actually asking was ‘is he alive?’

“We don’t know. It’s a mess down there. As I said before it is a place frequented by drug addicts, drifters and the homeless. We don’t know how many people were inside when it went up but there have been fatalities and a number of casualties. The injured are being transported here…”

 

**“Dispatch Charlie 1-7-9, 10-79.”**

**“Copy Charlie 1-7-9 10-79 en-route to your location.”**

***********************************************************

**GLOSSARY**

****  
General Terms  


 **Amber Alert** \- Warning system alerting public of a missing child  
 **Bag and tag** \- Process where evidence is placed in a bag and marked for forensic assessment  
 **Charlie xxx** \- Police squad car designation Cxxx  
 **Code 1** – Emergency  
 **Code Adam** \- An infant, child or adult patient missing from a hospital  
 **Fire Police** \- Volunteer Fire Brigade with police powers. Trained in and are responsible for things such as traffic control, crowd control and fire and incident scene security.  
 **IC** \- Incident Controller  
 **IMT** \- Incident Management Team

 

 **Police Codes**

**10-7** \- Out of Service  
 **10-28** \- Vehicle registration check  
 **10-32** \- Man with gun  
 **10-33** – Emergency  
 **10-44** \- Request for public ambulance  
 **10-48** \- Traffic control  
 **10-52** \- Ambulance required  
 **10-57** \- Hit and Run  
 **10-70** – Fire  
 **10-73** \- Smoke report  
 **10-78** \- Need assistance  
 **10-79** \- Notify coroner  
 **10-84** \- Estimated time of arrival (ETA)

 

 **Fire Brigade Codes**  
 **BC** \- Battalion Chief  
 **Engine** \- Pumper, water tanker  
 **FAST Truck** \- Usually ladder held in reserve in case needed  
 **Ladder** \- Truck with a ladder attached  
 **Probably will hold** \- The chief probably can control the fire with units assigned.  
 **Rescue** \- Rescue unit  
 **Squad** \- Engine called out in all 10-75 incidents and used for all high-angle rescues, confined space rescues, and trench rescues.  
 **Unit** \- Paramedics

 **10-12** \- First arriving unit give preliminary  
 **10-41** \- Suspicious fire  
 **• CODE 2** Unoccupied building  
 **10-45** \- Serious fire related injury  
 **• CODE 1** \- Victim deceased  
 **• CODE 2** \- Life threatening serious injury  
 **• CODE 3** \- Non-life threatening serious injury  
 **10-60** \- Major emergency as in a building collapse  
 **10-75** \- Request 4 engines, 2 ladders, 2 Battalion Chiefs, a Rescue and Squad, and a FAST truck  
 **10-99** \- Units will operate over 30 minutes

 

*****************************************

 **Chapter 11** \- _If you are going through hell, keep going._

 

“Not dead!” 

The voice was weak but the words were strong, although the harsh coughing fit when the man had finished speaking somewhat overrode the illusion that he was indeed more alive than dead.

The firefighter held the younger man to him tightly and placed his face mask over the other man’s face. “Just breathe. Deep and slow, okay.” He coughed himself as the smoke billowed overhead. 

The younger man nodded; eyes wide and slightly panicked.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured him although he didn’t really feel that way. After all they were trapped in a burning warehouse and had just witnessed something that was out-and-out bizarre.

************************** 

Earlier that night the firefighter’s unit had been called to a fire at the paint factory next door. The sheer closeness of the burning building to the abandoned warehouse placed the warehouse at risk and so he and a fellow firefighter had been tasked to ensure that the warehouse was indeed abandoned. On the ground floor they had encountered a motley band of derelicts, winos and druggies, many of whom spoke of a weird guy who sprouted fire from his fingers. _Yeah right,_ the firefighter thought, _I want what they’ve been drinking or sniffing or whatever._

One old guy was ranting about this odd man who told them all to leave the building and had started hurling flames at them when they refused and how one stream of flame went through a broken window into the factory next door and broke a window starting a fire. Without doubt there was evidence of extinguished fires everywhere downstairs but most likely they were started by embers blowing through the countless broken windows adjacent to the already burning paint factory. The question was did the factory catch fire or did someone here set fire to it.

He went with the later and asked, “Okay who set fire to the factory? Hands up which one of you people had a little too much Christmas cheer and accidentally set the world on fire tonight? Any takers?”

The old man approached the young firefighter. “Mr. Fireman this strange man did it.”

“The one with the magic fire fingers?” The firefighter asked.

The old man nodded, “When the flames hit the factory he said and I quote…”

“You quote!” The firefighter laughed at the cultured tones the old man used to try and convince him. “Okay what did he say?”

“He said _Jesus Christ. What are the odds?_ What do you think he means?”

“I have no idea old timer but how about you go with that fine firefighter over there and he’ll take you to the nice policeman and you tell him your story. Everyone needs a little joy at this time of year.”

“Thank you Mr. Fireman, Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah Merry Christmas old timer; now out you go. Bye, bye!” He dismissed the insane ramblings of the assembled group, sent them out the front door with the other firefighter and radioed in that some of them were injured, just minor burns and smoke inhalation nothing too serious, although he didn’t add that most of them were one can short of a six pack and had probably had a little too much _Mule Kick_ and crack as they were seeing supernatural beings with fire fingers.

“Sheesh. Fire fingers. I hate this time of year,” he grumbled to himself as he climbed the stairs. He quickly made his way through the upper floors ensuring all rooms were clear and then on the fourth floor he opened _the_ door. It had looked like all the rest but inside the scene was so incredibly different to what he had seen in the countless rooms before it. 

“Whoa…okay…time to take it to a motel guys…” he ordered as he took in the scene before him. Then he did a double take…

The window in the room was lacking a window pane, the glass long gone, and a dusting of snow, blown in by the December winds, fluttered to the floor and upon the naked body of a young man who appeared to be in his late twenties. The man’s skin glistened with sweat despite the cold, his hands were bound at the wrists, his arms were stretched above his head and secured to an old wall heater and his mouth was gagged. 

From Jake’s point of view the bound man didn’t seem to be a willing partner as he desperately tried to kick the other man away. However, the other man had total control of the situation as restrained the bound man’s legs and began to explain in technicolor what he intend to do to him.

Putting aside that scenario, it was the third person in the room that told the firefighter that this was definitely not an ordinary _let’s role play our group sex_ activity because that man was pinned to the ceiling by an unseen force, his stomach slashed open and blood oozed to the floor below staining the white snow that had drifted through the broken window. The man was barely alive and from the horrified look on the bound man’s face, it seemed to the firefighter that the he too feared his own fate might end in a similar fashion to that of the ceiling man. Yet despite all of this the molester seemed indifferent to the man on the ceiling as if it that sort thing happened every day.

The firefighter’s intrusion was obviously not welcome as the only person able to move freely leapt to his feet, stared intently at the intruder for what seemed like an eternity before shooting a burst of fire from his fingers towards him. The firefighter ducked and rolled to avoid becoming a crispy critter, while his assailant muttered something about the Prince of Fire and leapt out of the fourth floor window. The firefighter hopped to his feet and rushed to the window expecting to see the broken body of a jumper on the ground below. Instead he saw the man stand up, shoot off a few more blasts of fire in the direction of the window and then run off down the street.

“What the…” he muttered his gaze riveted on the ground below. “How the hell…” 

However, his attention was quickly dragged back to the room as the muted cries of the bound man warned him that all was not right, if indeed anything had been right from the moment he had opened the door. In an instant the man on the ceiling burst into flames. On instinct the firefighter leapt on top of the man on the ground, covering his naked body with his own and protecting him from the fire as it roared along the ceiling and out the open door on one side of the room and the broken window on the other. 

There was nothing to be done for the man on the ceiling he was obliterated in the inferno but the firefighter was determined to not let the man he now blanketed die. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut the rope binding the man’s wrists and he removed the gag. 

“Come on,” he ordered as he half dragged the man out of the burning room and into the corridor. “Can you walk?” he asked the terrified man.

The man tried to stand only to fall over as his legs gave way. Adding to his misery he had breathed too deeply in an effort to stand up and had inhaled a lung full of smoke which caused him to choke for breath in the smoke filled corridor.

“I’ve got you,” his rescuer explained and hoisted the man in a firefighter’s carry as he raced along the long corridor looking for somewhere safe to escape the flames. He managed to get down to the third floor but the smoke was too thick to go any further. Obviously the fire had spread from the factory fire to the old warehouse and both buildings were now well ablaze. So instead he moved to where the air seemed clearer and entered a room which looked out over the front the building. He radioed his situation to the Chief and requested a ladder to come help them, explaining that he had located a victim who would need medical attention. While resources were available for such a rescue all units were currently stationed at the paint factory and it would take time to deploy a truck to their location.

“Hang tight,” he was told by the Chief. “We’ll get to you. We’ve got more units on the way.”

“It’s getting dicey here but we’ll be okay for a little while,” he replied and hoped they would be okay but he wasn’t confident. Still he wasn’t about to tell the guy he just dragged from a burning room that he had merely delayed the inevitable.

He laid the naked man on the floor and noticed that he was shivering violently. There was snow on the floor here too as it blew in from the broken window and the man was obviously in shock from all that he had seen and endured. The firefighter hoped that help would reach them soon or the man might die. Lord knows the firefighter was no paramedic but he knew he had to keep the man warm and the irony of that thought made him laugh. They were after all in a burning building and here he was desperate to keep the man from dying from the cold and shock when they were more likely to be burnt to death.

They had settled near the window, low enough to temporarily escape the smoke that was starting to seep under the closed door and the firefighter gathered the younger man to him in an effort to stave off further cold.

“Not dead!” The young man had said and then coughed uncontrollably due to the smoke.

The firefighter held the younger man tightly to him and placed his own face mask over the man’s face. He knew he was breaking protocol by sharing the mask but after what had just occurred he wasn’t about to lose the guy to smoke inhalation.

“Just breathe. Deep and slow, okay.” He coughed himself as the smoke billowed overhead. 

The younger man nodded; eyes wide and slightly panicked.

“It’s gonna be fine,” the firefighter assured him. “What’s your name?” He asked feeling that since he was holding a naked body so close to his he had better be on a first name basis.

“Dean,” the man replied.

“Nice to meet you Dean. I’m Jake and buddy neither of us is dead yet and I don’t intend for us to end up that way either,” he replied. “Let’s think positive okay? Trust me I’m a firefighter I’ll get us out safely.”

“’Okay,” Dean replied his breathing labored from the smoke. “Clothes?” The younger man asked hopefully.

“Sorry man. I know it sucks to be caught in a fire naked but believe me it happens all the time. Don’t worry about it. Besides there wasn’t time to grab your clothes,” Jake assumed they were on the floor back in the other room but he honestly didn’t recall seeing them anywhere although he wouldn’t have had time to collect them anyway when the fire flashed over them. “It was you or your pants and since the two of you were already leading separate lives when I found you I figured you were the better choice to save...you at least could talk to me.” 

He smiled at Dean although he was unsure if the man actually understood that he was trying to ease his embarrassment. Jake had to admit it must hard for Dean to be lying naked in the arms of a stranger after almost been raped. No man would want to face that situation but Jake wanted to make Dean feel relaxed despite their awkward introduction. 

He took the opportunity to really look at his companion. Dean looked drawn, sick even and it occurred to Jake that maybe more was wrong with him than just what he had seen upstairs. Jake noted the swollen wrist and wondered what other injuries Dean may have sustained before he had found him. 

“Dean your wrist hurt?” he asked as he lifted Dean’s injured arm.

Dean took a deep breath before talking and copped a lung full of smoke.

“Here put this on,” Jake ordered as he ripped off his face mask once again and put it over the man’s face. “I got you buddy. You just concentrate on breathing.”

He waited until he could feel the tension ease a little in Dean’s body before he replaced his mask. 

“I got you,” he reiterated cradling Dean in his arms. Jake contacted the Chief again. “This is McAllister. How goes that ladder Chief? Smoke’s getting pretty bad in here.”

“Got an appliance heading your way. They should be about there now.”

“Thanks Chief. Will go signal ‘em now. McAllister out.”

“Okay Dean I’m just gonna lie you down here while I let the truck know where we are…”

Dean grasped Jake’s jacket with his good hand, his eyes filled with fear.

“Hey it’s okay I _will not_ let anything happen to you. You and I, well we shared something back there. Trust me I am not about to let you die but if I don’t tell them where to look for us we will die. So…” his words were cut off as part of ceiling gave way having burned through from the floor above.

Dean pushed Jake sideways with reflexes neither of them expected. Jake was shoved clear but Dean took the brunt of the debris.

“Shit,” Jake muttered as he scrambled to check on Dean. He shoved the smoldering beams away quickly and pulled Dean to him patting his face to wake the man “Dean, Buddy, you okay? Come on man wake up?” 

Dean moaned and opened his eyes. He had been momentarily stunned by the ceiling that crashed down on him but he appeared alright albeit a little groggy. Jake couldn’t see anything too bad, cuts, scratches and potentially a few bruised ribs and lump on the head but nothing major or at least he hoped that was the case.

“You with me man?” Jake asked, concern lacing his voice. Dean simply nodded. “Good,” panted Jake grateful that the man was alive and well. “I owe you one buddy. Okay time for us to get out of here.” 

He dragged Dean with him to the open window and was relieved to see the ladder truck below. He radioed their exact location and waited for the ladder to reach them. 

“Here we go Dean. Don’t be afraid I’ve just got to pass you over to the guy in the bucket but I will follow once he has you safely inside. Then we’ll get you covered up and have the paramedics check you out.”

He lifted Dean into his arms and called “Careful he’s hurt,” to the firefighter manning the bucket atop the ladder. Dean was taken by the other firefighter and lowered into the bucket. At that moment there was a loud explosion and flames burst out through the open window where Jake was standing. 

“Jake,” Dean screamed and tried to scramble to his feet but was held down by the firefighter. 

“Stay there,” the man ordered. “McAllister? Jake you okay?” The man radioed his colleague. “McAllister call in.”

“Son of a bitch,” came the grumbled response. Jake hauled his battered body up enough to climb out the window and into the bucket as flames engulfed the entire room. “Thanks Harry. Get us out of here,” he said wearily as he gathered Dean to him. “Safe now buddy,” he told Dean as he settled the man in his arms. 

Dean nodded, “Safe.” 

Jake had rescued a lot of people since he became a firefighter but Dean’s blind faith in his abilities surprised him. He wondered what kind of life the man had lived to be so trusting or was it that he had known so little trust in the past that he clung to someone that seemed to care what happened to him. Either way Jake decided he wasn’t going to let Dean disappear from his life. After all, the guy needed protecting from that thing, person, who had hurt him and besides Dean seemed a nice guy. Of course Jake was assuming a lot and he really hadn’t even had much of a conversation with the guy but you can’t hold a naked man in your arms and not become friends. So he certainly intended to feature in Dean’s life in the near future or until the guy was able to fight for himself and didn’t need him around anymore. 

The ladder had moved well away from the wall and was being lowered when the outer façade gave way and part of the building collapsed into the street below. 

“This one’s a bad one Jake. Long night ahead.”

Jake coughed as he tried to clear his throat of smoke, “Yeah long night Harry…” he looked at Dean and smiled sadly. “Been a long night already.”

The bucket lowered them to safety and the paramedics moved in to care for Dean. The frenzied activity caused him to panic, “Stay,” he pleaded to Jake.

“Not going anywhere buddy,” he calmly told Dean. “Now lie down and let them look at you.”

Dean did as ordered as they treated his injuries. He tried to answer the many questions they asked but the smoke in his lungs made it difficult to talk too much. All the while Jake hovered nearby staying in Dean’s line of sight but not close enough to get in the paramedics way. Jake was sure Dean’s fear was based on what had happened to him up in that room and he was probably worried that the guy would come after him again but Jake intended to make sure that didn’t happen. He wasn’t sure how he would do it but he knew that what he saw was not natural and he intended to discover just what it was that he had seen. The more he understood the better he could protect Dean.

One of the paramedics approached the firefighter. “McAllister you playing hero again? Man when are you going to learn that humans can’t breathe smoke?” The paramedic asked as he put an oxygen mask on the firefighter. “Next time keep your mask on and you won’t need this after.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever Mike. I’m alive. How’s the kid?”

“Hardly a kid he’s twenty-seven dude.”

“Yeah well he’s younger than me,” he replied. 

“What you must be thirty-something…”

“Thirty two,” Jake informed him.

“Bucking for a pension soon old man?”

Jake lifted the mask off his face, “So he’s talking?”

Mike nodded, “Yeah. Told us his name but he seems confused. Doesn’t know what happened to him or how he ended up here. We need to get him to the hospital and you should get looked at too. Besides something tells me he won’t go unless you’re with him. Won a heart there Mr. Fireman I think.”

“What you jealous Mike?” It was old joke but always got a laugh and a reaction. “Anyway the kid’s just scared.”

The paramedic laughed, readjusted Jake’s mask, “Yeah right and keep that on. We’ve been run off our feet tonight here. One guy shot dead by police, another died of heart failure and plenty of minor burns and smoke inhalation. Hopefully you two will be the last victims from here. So hold on this bus is leaving the building,” he announced grandly.

Jake removed the oxygen mask as he climbed up next to Dean. “You’re going to be fine. Just going to the hospital, we both need to see a doc but we’ll be okay.” 

He half listened as the paramedics called in details about their two patients. Heard Dean referred to as Dean Winchester and listened briefly when they rattled off his injuries. He sat up straight though when the dispatcher called the paramedics asking to confirm they had Dean Winchester on board.

“Affirmative dispatch. Dean Winchester, Caucasian male, twenty-seven years old. Height approximately six one.”

“What was that all about?” Jake asked, his interest piqued by the call.

Mike shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine and put that mask back on.”

“In a minute.” Jake noticed that Dean was watching him, “Hey Dean you’re a popular boy tonight. Someone must be looking for you.”

The words were out before he could stop himself. _Shit_ he thought as he saw the look of panic in Dean’s eyes. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” Dean didn’t seem too happy though, so Jake continued. “So you got family around here? A wife? Parents looking for you maybe?”

“Dad and Sammy.”

“Sammy your wife?” 

“Little brother.”

“Well I think they may be worried about you,” he said. “Sounds like they may have the authorities out looking for you. Good to know someone cares and they will have you home by Christmas.” 

“Home!”

“I guess when the doc clears you then you can go home.”

“No home.”

“What?” Jake asked but at that moment they arrived at the hospital and were instantly surrounded by medical staff and police. Jake was surprised by the amount of attention focused on the young man and for his part Dean began to get flustered. “Easy there buddy. You’re okay. I didn’t let anything happen to you in that fire so I’m not about to let anyone hurt you here,” Jake assured him.

Dean seemed satisfied by that and lay back but clutched Jake’s arm as if to ensure the man didn’t leave. As they entered the Emergency Department a voice rose above the others crowding in on Dean.

“Dean! Oh god Dean!” John cried as he raced towards his eldest son. “It’s okay you’re safe now,” he soothed as he embraced him, although he was mindful of any potential injuries Dean may have had. 

Dean looked at his father, tried hard not to flinch as they man touched him and announced as firmly as he could considering his weakened state, “Not dead!” 

 

****************************************

**Chapter 12** \- _The difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is how you use them._

 

In the early hours of the morning, Dean was finally transferred out of the ER and back to the Critical Care Unit. It had been a long night and despite the late hour, John couldn’t ignore his need for food any longer. So once he was satisfied that Dean was comfortably settled in, he left Sam with his brother while he headed back downstairs to grab some coffee and food for the two of them. It was on his return upstairs as he slouched, bone weary against the elevator wall, arms full of his purchases, head back and eyes drifting closed, that he had the first moment of peace since Dean disappeared. He breathed deeply rejoicing in the quiet until…

“Hold the elevator,” a breathless voice called from the darkened lobby. 

John sluggishly reached over and pushed the _doors open_ button as the disembodied voice materialized into the form of the very real firefighter, Jake McAlister, who now stepped into the elevator.

“You…” they said in shocked unison as the doors closed leaving the two men stuck in the same confined space for the short journey to the Critical Care Unit.

Jake sighed. He really hadn’t thought this through. He had left Dean when the man was transferred upstairs, to go give his statement to the police before heading home to clean up but in hindsight he should have known that Dean’s family would stay with him regardless of the late hour. “Look I won’t cause any trouble. I just want to see him before I head off to work.”

“He’s still out of it…” 

“I promised him that I would be there. Please? He was pretty freaked out last night,” as if he needed to remind Dean’s father of that.

 _Now that was an understatement if I ever I heard one,_ John thought but instead he said, “Dean’s been through a lot.” 

Jake couldn’t agree more. He had been informed by the police, albeit briefly, what Dean had suffered during the past two months. It amazed him that the man was still alive considering it all. “He’s a survivor,” Jake responded. 

“Can’t argue that one,” John replied as he once more laid his head back against the elevator wall, eyes closed. Dean deserved a better life, John knew that, wanted that for his boy, both his boys and maybe with this latest incident behind them, they could all move forward and start afresh. Only thing is he wasn’t so sure Dean would want to make that start with John in his life. Time would tell though because right now Dean wasn’t saying much at all.

“Sam’s with him,” It was an afterthought but John wanted the man to know up front where he stood. More importantly he didn’t want another scene between his younger son and Jake over Dean. Lord knows enough was said last night.

“Good, he shouldn’t be alone,” Jake conceded. Actually despite what went down in the ER, Jake felt better knowing that someone was there even if he wasn’t so sure Sam could protect Dean if that _thing_ came back. Hell, Jake wondered if he could protect Dean and he had seen it up close and personal. 

The elevator doors opened at Dean’s floor and they walked in awkward silence to his room. Sam looked up as the door opened and immediately stood up blocking Jake from coming closer to Dean. 

“What does he want?” Sam asked John while keeping his eyes fixed on the firefighter. 

John never had a chance to answer as Jake walked towards Dean. “I just wanted to see him…” Jake replied civilly.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “Look it’s not that we don’t appreciate what you did for him, but we’re his family we’ll take care of him.”

Jake had no idea what Dean’s relationship was with his family, but the man was incredibly insecure when they were in the fire. Oh people get clingy when faced with the threat of injury or death, but Dean; well he was just so vulnerable. Those eyes…something in his eyes…it seemed more than… Jake wasn’t sure what, as he shook his head trying to clear away the images of the desperate young man from the night before. 

“So he’s not allowed friends now, is that it?” Jake challenged. “What about what he wants? Have you ever even asked what he wants?” 

“We Winchesters look out for each other and I know my brother, and I know what he wants!” Sam spat back, although he knew Jake had hit a nerve. Wasn’t that the very problem…Dean always went blindly into the abyss and never questioned why he should do it. He never stood up to John and conversely, neither Sam nor John ever stopped to ask what plans or dreams Dean had for his life, because Dean so willingly did what they all wanted. The reality was that while Dean seemed in control of his own life; in fact he was very much a product of his past and whether it was intentional or not, John and Sam exploited that to satisfy their own needs.

“Doesn’t seem that way from where I’m standing…” Jake calmly replied.

Sam threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You think that’s what’s going on here? We’re trying to _sort out_ what’s best for Dean…”

Jake didn’t want to cause a scene but he stood his ground. “Well Dean told you last night what he wanted. Why can’t you respect that huh?”

Sam moved towards Jake but John stepped between the men, one hand firmly planted on each heaving chest. “Enough!” he growled. “Sam back off. This is hardly the time or place. Your brother needs support not a showdown and you…” he snarled at Jake, “I thought you said no trouble? If you’re here for Dean fine; he obviously wants you around, but arguing over his prostrate body is hardly showing you’re here for him. Now drop it both of you or I’ll kick you both out and you can go beat each other senseless in the parking lot.”

Sam reluctantly backed away returning to his seat next to Dean. Jake meanwhile hovered on the other side of the bed and tried to ignore Sam’s withering gaze. John stood back against the far wall and sipped his now lukewarm coffee but nothing in the man’s posture said he was relaxed. John was very much ready to pounce on either of the other men if they stepped out of line. 

The tension in the room was palpable and the situation was as tense as it had been the previous evening only now the shouting was over and the waiting began…

****************************************

ER The Night Before

When word had first come in that the warehouse, where the police believed Dean was being held, was on fire, John and Sam had raced to the ER to see if he was among the victims that had started to arrive from the scene. They moved from patient to patient in a frantic effort to find Dean, but despite the number of casualties already at the hospital, Dean wasn’t one of them.

Lisa Warren, the IMT Liaison Officer with Nurse O’Brien in tow, finally caught up with them. “We’ve had word that an ambulance is due in, carrying a male Caucasian aged twenty-seven who says his name is Dean,” A breathless Lisa informed them.

John and Sam stood rooted to the spot, both wanting to ask a thousand questions but afraid of the answers. “He’s alive?” John finally whispered daring to hope that the nightmare was over.

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” He questioned again trying to get his head around the thought that Dean was alive.

She nodded.

He couldn’t believe it. The relief that it was over was warring with the anger that the whole thing had happened in the first place. John saw the same expression reflected on Sam’s face. 

“Your brother’s alive.” He said as he noted how drawn the younger Winchester looked. “You okay son?” 

Sam smiled wearily, “Yeah…I think…I’m good Dad.”

John didn’t believe him for a minute but for now he’d let it go; there would be time to talk later. He squeezed Sam’s shoulder, “Everything will be fine son. None of this is your fault; just remember that.”

Sam looked away; clearly he didn’t feel so blameless.

A teary Mary O’Brien joined them. “Oh John, it’s a Christmas miracle,” she said. “Things will get better John, you’ll see. We have him back and that’s all that matters.”

John tenderly took her hand, “Thank you for being here Mary. The boys and I…well it’s been a long while since we had someone care about what happened to us. Thank you. You’ve got no idea how much it means to all of us.”

Lisa Warren was also pleased by the outcome of the situation; it’s not often that the victim is returned to their loved ones…alive. Being able to share in the joy rather than console the heartbroken was a rare treat indeed. 

“He should be arriving any minute,” Lisa explained as she guided them to the ambulance entry in the ER. “If we wait here you should be able to see him as soon as he comes through the doors.”

John waited those last few minutes in uncertainty. Have you ever stood and waited for someone you loved, hoping they were safe and yet fearing that they were not? Have you ever wondered what the last thing you said to them was and hoped that it was something significant like ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m sorry that I ended up possessed and raped you’ and not ‘ pass the salt’ or ‘when are you going to wash that car?’ Have you ever prayed to a God you thought had abandoned you on a cold November night years ago and begged him not to take out his anger at your desertion from faith on your family? This was what those few minutes felt like for John before the doors burst open and the paramedics wheeled Dean into the ER.

When Dean arrived he was sitting up and wide awake. His body wrapped in a thermal blanket, IV drip in his arm, wrist splinted, oxygen mask firmly placed on his soot covered face and his eyes looked wild. He was accompanied by a six foot something firefighter who looked equally stunned by the sheer number of medical staff, police and media waiting to see Dean. 

“Dean! Dean!” John cried as he pushed his way through the mass of people to his son. “It’s okay you’re safe now,” he soothed as he tentatively embraced Dean. “Are you alright? Burns? Was he burnt?” John asked no-one in particular. “Let me look at you; you seem alright,” John muttered as he quickly checked him over.

Dean needed to talk to John but the oxygen mask was in the way. He tried unsuccessfully to remove it but his movements were jerky and uncoordinated. In the end the firefighter removed it for him. Now free from its confines he cried out, “Not dead!” 

“Far from it son,” John happily replied. “Everything is going to be just fine Dean. You’re safe.”

“No…not dead!”

“Shhh now. The doctors will check you out and then we can talk.” He pulled Dean into another hug. “Kiddo you really had me worried but we have you back now. Everything will be alright now. I promise.” 

Dean was relieved to see his Dad, but an obscure memory of pain at his father’s hand surfaced and for an instant he was genuinely frightened of the man and it took all his strength not to shy away from John’s hug. Dean was further confused because his Dad kept saying that he was safe. _Safe from what?_ Bewildered by all that had happened to him and his rescue from the Demon, Dean wondered if his Dad had already worked out that the Demon had taken him. 

Dean didn’t know how the Demon took him away, because the last thing he clearly remembered was being in the cabin and realizing that his Dad was possessed. Well obviously his father wasn’t possessed now, so that meant his Dad had escaped and if he escaped, then he would have tried to kill it, unless of course it…Sam! Where was Sam?

His panic swelled as he tried in vain to find Sam in the throng of people crowding in on him.

“Dad…Sammy?” He cried before succumbing to a coughing fit.

The firefighter quickly put the oxygen mask back on Dean’s face. Gentle instructions to breathe deeply were obeyed as Dean fixed grateful eyes on the man.

John was mildly surprised by Dean’s acquiescence but then he thought his son was still mentally a child, so it sort of figured he would do what an authority figure told him to do. He watched as his son tried to slow his breathing down, but he was even more fascinated by the trust Dean had in the man who placed a hand on his arm as he spoke words of encouragement. 

“Dean?” John gently coaxed his son’s attention away from the stranger. 

Slowly (John would have said reluctantly), Dean turned his attention back to his father but in doing so the fear returned and with it another wave of panic. Dean seized John’s arm shaking it as he demanded in a broken voice, “Sam? Where…”

When his father didn’t answer him he thought that the Demon had already taken his brother, that it was too late. 

“Dean it’s okay! Take it easy son.”

Defeated he laid his head back and squeezed his eyes closed as reality hit him. He had lost his brother. Sam was gone. “Sammy?” he whispered as his eyes filled with unshed tears as he tried to come to grips with everything that he knew had happened and what he thought must have happened. 

“Everything will be alright,” John assured him wondering what the hell had happened to make Dean so distressed.

But Dean was having none of it. He just shook his head from side to side trying to ignore John’s feeble attempts to console him. It was too late he had failed to protect Sam. 

Then a familiar voice rose above the rest. “Dean! I’m right here Dean,” a breathless Sam called as he pushed his way through the crowd into his brother’s line of sight. 

Dean was almost afraid to open his eyes but when he did, he was confronted by his very worried six foot four little brother. He couldn’t believe it. Sam was alive. He was safe and he was here. He pushed the mask of his face again and reached unsteadily for his brother.

“Sam...safe?” 

“Yeah man you’re safe,” his brother assured him as he patted his cheek before pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry Dean!”

“Hurt?” Dean pushed back from the embrace and stared at Sam. He needed to be sure that Sam had come out of all this unscathed. He ran his hand over his brother’s face trying to take in everything; looking for signs or marks or anything that might tell him that his brother was injured or worse.

“Dean it’s gonna be okay,” Sam gently stilled Dean’s wandering hand. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. Dad and I are here now and we’ll make sure no-one hurts you again.”

The frustration at not being able to say what he was thinking was starting to get to him and Dean vaguely wondered whether the Demon had done something to him because he seemed incapable of making himself understood. There were things he needed to tell his family but the words didn’t come out right. “Sammy!” He tried to make Sam understand that the Demon was out there waiting to attack. “Not…” he coughed. “Not dead.” He began to cough uncontrollably and the firefighter once more tried to put the mask on his face, but he pushed it away. “No…not dead…”

Sam pulled Dean into a huge hug. “And thank God you’re not dead. Thought I’d lost you. Thought you were dead. My fault it happened. So sorry!”

Dean tried to soothe his distressed brother but he was really confused as to why Sam was so upset. He had been so relieved when he saw Sam was safe but his brother’s words left him with a sinking feeling. _Fault? What did you do Sam? Sorry for what?_ He began to think that maybe things weren’t what they seemed after all. 

His family was acting weird, which was really saying something since his family was weird. The tremendous relief Dean felt at seeing his brother alive was overshadowed by the fact that he had these hazy memories simmering just below the surface and try as he might, he couldn’t understand them. All Dean knew for sure was that he felt that he should be afraid. At least he thought he should be afraid, but he just didn’t know who or what to be afraid of. 

He felt so many emotions and all he wanted to do was to close his eyes and sleep, but he had to make his family understand. In desperation Dean turned to Jake, grabbing his arm to pull the man closer. “Tell…” his words were lost in a coughing fit. “Tell…” He choked out.

“Tell them?” Jake asked knowing full well what Dean wanted. “I can’t buddy,” he kept his voice low so that they weren’t overheard. “They’ll think you’re crazy. Trust me we can’t tell anybody about that, but we do need to tell the doc about…you know what happened to you. Just leave it with me. I’ll sort it out.” 

Dean’s eyes grew wide. _No don’t tell them that. I don’t want them to know. Don’t you dare tell them! Jake!_

Jake patted Dean’s arm in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture but Dean was frustrated and that led to agitation. _Why can’t people understand me? What’s happened to me! Where am I? Jake get me out of here!_

Any attempts to calm him down only exacerbated the situation. His agitation meant that those who had stayed back letting his family have a moment now rushed to his assistance and seeing the sudden surge of people towards him, Dean had what could only be described as a deer in the headlights look on his face. He began to panic. Voices were raised in concern as Dean shrunk back on the gurney in a feeble attempt to escape the maddening crowd, as he clutched the firefighter like a life line. The more stressed he became, the more he wheezed and coughed, and the more people tried to help him. In the end the firefighter, the one person who had barely uttered a word since entering the ER shouted over the top of everyone else and told them all, including John and Sam, to stay back and calm down. 

“Who the hell are you to tell me how to look after my son,” John roared at the stranger. 

_Dad’s pissed. Not good,_ thought Dean.

“I’m firefighter Jake McAlister and I found your son.” 

“Look McAlister I appreciate what you’ve done for him but it’s time to step aside and let the medical people get on with it,” John said as tried to reign in his anger at this man’s intrusion. “You’re holding up my son’s treatment.”

“I know that you’re son needs medical attention, but you and everyone else are scaring him to death. So just back off for a minute; the guy has had one hell of a night and right now he doesn’t need to feel like the last turkey at thanksgiving. Now give him some breathing space and let’s approach this in a civilized manner.”

Sam took a step forward, “But we’re his family…”

Jake raised a hand indicating that Sam should stop right where he is, “I don’t care if you’re the Easter Bunny pal, Dean’s a little overwhelmed at the moment and maybe the best thing right now is to move him to a treatment room. The guy doesn’t need this…” Jake waved a hand around indicating the near riot that had almost erupted as innumerable people all tried to descend on the hapless man at the same time. 

“And what makes you an expert on what Dean needs?”

Dean was angry too. _What makes you one either Sam?_

“Look I know you all want to help but please it’s too much too soon okay? Dean comes first right? So leave him be for a minute. Now who’s in charge here? We got a doctor in the house?”

“Dr Jessop.” A man stepped out of the crowd. “I’m Dean’s physician. I came in as soon as I heard what had happened.” He explained as he approached the gurney. 

“J…Jake?” Dean looked at Jake clearly seeking reassurance as the strange man in the white coat came closer. 

The sight of the Doctor unnerved Dean. _White coat, oh this can’t be good._

Plain and simple Dean didn’t know who to trust. His family was odd, he didn’t recognize anyone else and Jake…well even though they had met under bizarre circumstances, Dean was sure he could trust the man. Dean also accepted that his inability to communicate coupled with his lack of coordination meant that he was extremely vulnerable at the moment. The firefighter would have to protect him in the absence of his family understanding the danger he and they were in. He only hoped that Jake was capable of doing it because Dean knew there was no way he could do it himself. The situation sucked but he had no choice, this was one time he had to trust someone else with his life and he hoped they wouldn’t let him down.

“It’s okay Dean. He says he’s your doctor,” Jake assured the concerned man all the while hoping that this Jessop character was indeed someone who would look after Dean and not make the situation worse. What Jake hadn’t expected was to discover that Dean was already a patient at the hospital and this circus was all related to him. It seemed that the only thing Jake knew for sure was that he would have to wait until Dean was well enough to tell his story and judging by how the last few minutes had gone that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Dr Jessop stopped a few feet short of the gurney so as not to frighten the already apprehensive young man. “Dean do you remember me?” He asked. 

_I don’t know you from a bar of soap,_ Dean’s inner voice stated.

“We’re going to take you into one of the rooms so that you can have a little privacy and we can have a look at what we need to do to help you,” he explained. “Is that alright with you?”

_Do I really have a choice?_

Once again Dean looked to Jake for the answer. Jake nodded that it was okay; so Dean simply shrugged that he agreed to Jessop’s suggestion.

“Do you want your father and brother to come with you?” Dr Jessop enquired.

John was surprised Jessop even asked the question, “Of course he does…” John bellowed, clearly frustrated at being kept at arm’s length from his injured son by a stranger.

Dean’s eyes widened in fear at his father’s outburst and he started to hyperventilate as indistinct memories bubbled to the surface again. _The guy has to be possessed._ Instinctively Dean felt he should be afraid of the man but he couldn’t understand why, John was after all his father, a man he had looked up to all his life.

“Back off man,” Jake thundered at John as he fitted the oxygen mask on Dean’s face once more. “Keep it there okay,” he ordered. “People just want to help. They’re worried so they get a little tense but you just concentrate on breathing through that mask nice and slow and let me handle things,” he instructed Dean. 

Dean fixed his eyes on Jake and did as he was told. 

“Dean I’m sorry…” John tried to explain but Dean never turned to look at his Dad. .

“John please let Dean decide what he wants,” Jessop chided. “Dean is it alright if your family comes in with you?” Normally the question wouldn’t even be raised but Dean had had a turbulent few months culminating in the abduction. He was obviously stressed beyond his ability to cope and all Jessop wanted was for Dean to be comfortable, so Dean needed to make this decision. Whatever he decided was good enough for the Doctor.

As for his family going with him into the treatment room well Dean wasn’t sure he wanted them to know what happened to him but he also didn’t want to be alone with the mass of strangers who looked way too eager to get their hands on him. However, he also had this unsettling feeling that his family was possessed, so overall Dean began to feel like his life was spiraling out of control. In the end he clung to the only person that seemed strong enough to help him decide, and that was Jake. 

“Dean?” Dr Jessop prodded.

Dean looked to Jake seeking the right answer and Jake seeing the young man’s pleading eyes looked at John and Sam, weighing up if these men were friends or foes. In the end he sighed and told Dean, “Yeah buddy I think they should be with you.”

 _Not like they’d stay outside anyway._ “Okay,” Dean replied. 

“Good. Now Dean firefighter will have to go but I’m sure he will come to visit you tomorrow, won’t you…,” 

“Jake!” Dean, Jake, John and Sam told in for him. 

Dr Jessop couldn’t hide his smile at their responses while Jake just quirked an eyebrow, Sam shrugged, John scowled and Dean smiled despite the tense situation.

“Fine I’m sure _Jake_ will come back tomorrow for a visit,” Jessop stated while looking pointedly at Jake indicating that he should move away from his patient immediately. 

Dean felt light-headed and bone weary, but he needed to be certain that he would be safe and that meant Jake _had_ to stay with him. He mustered what little strength he had left and stubbornly informed the crowd “Jake stays!” 

Jake was more than pleased by Dean’s announcement as he was reluctant to let the man out of his sight after what had happened. He needed to be around if _it_ came back. Only thing is Jake wasn’t sure what _it_ was and he had no idea how to kill _it_ if it did turn up. He just knew that he needed to protect Dean until they could figure out what to do. 

Doctor Jessop started to protest, but Jake drew himself up to his full height, squared his shoulders and stared the doctor down, “Dean wants me here, so here is where I stay. Deal with it.”

The upshot was that Dean, with Jake firmly by his side, was taken away from prying eyes for treatment. John and Sam followed; both stunned by the turn events but allowing the stranger’s intrusion only because it was what Dean wanted right now. What confused John however, was why Dean trusted the man so much. It simply wasn’t Dean’s way; he never showed any signs of vulnerability. If anything Dean was more likely to keep things inside because sharing them was a sign of weakness. So whatever happened to him at that warehouse must have been incredibly terrifying for Dean to have done a complete one eighty in his attitudes. Still regardless of what went down earlier that night, John was wary of the firefighter and not quite prepared to hand over Dean’s care to this newcomer in his son’s life just yet. 

As the small procession of medical staff including Nurse O’Brien, John, Sam, Jake and Dean made its way to a treatment room, Jake was faced with his next hurdle. He needed to tell the doctor that Dean had been assaulted, but how? He didn’t want to embarrass Dean any further, heaven knows the guy was probably half relieved half mortified to be found in the warehouse as it was, but the doctor had to know. What made the situation worse was that the guy’s family was here. However it came out it wasn’t going to be pretty Jake was sure of that. 

As they entered the room Jake decided to warn Dean what he was about to do. He leaned in close to Dean and whispered, “Dean I need to tell them what that guy tried to do to you okay?”

“No!” Dean pleaded.

“Dean listen to me!” Jake begged. “They won’t know unless we tell them. You have to let them help you because I don’t know if he hurt you…before I got there. Please do for it me buddy, because I’m worried sick that you’re injured and if I don’t tell them we might miss something important. Okay?” 

“Dad, Sam…” Dean’s eyes said it all. _Don’t do this with them there._

Jake understood, he really did; he just didn’t know how to get the doctor alone to tell him but before he could figure it out he was tugged away from Dean’s side. 

“Come on now, let the staff get to Dean,” Nurse O’Brien said as she pulled Jake out of the way. “Dean can still see you if you stand here,” she explained, acutely aware that at the moment this man was important to Dean.

“Sure but I just need to talk to him…”

“Plenty of time for that later honey.”

“But you don’t understand…”

“Let the doctor fix him up first,” Mary warned the man. The patient had to come first and considering Dean’s medical history he simply couldn’t afford further delays in treatment.

“Please I have to…” 

“Not yet.” Mary stood firm on the matter.

Dean was becoming increasingly agitated as Jake argued the point with Mary. He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. He accepted that Jake had seen it and he couldn’t do anything about that but he just couldn’t face everyone else knowing; couldn’t face the questions and the prying hands and the memories. 

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_ He pushed the oxygen mask and began to struggle with the staff that fussed over him. “No…” he cried as he tried to push away the hands. “Don’t…don’t...” _Don’t tell them. Please don’t tell them. I’m alright. They don’t need to know._

Jake took a step towards Dean but Mary stood in his way. “He’s upset.” Jake yelled as the staff tried to keep the distressed Dean on the bed. “I need to…”

John couldn’t take it anymore. “Move away from my son or I’ll have you arrested.”

“Your son wants me here…”

“My son was in a coma for a month and left with the mentality of a five year old. He doesn’t know what he wants. Don’t you get it? He is a child and his most treasured possession is a teddy bear dressed as a fireman. Maybe that’s why he likes you, he sees you as a giant toy. He doesn’t need you he just thinks he does. Now move away.”

“He’s not a kid!” Jake laughed at the thought. “Surely you can’t be that stupid. You folks were told we were coming in right?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I was in the ambulance. I heard the paramedics tell base that they had a twenty-seven year old male, name of Dean Winchester. Who told them Dean’s full name and age because I sure as hell didn’t? Wasn’t me pal! He did. Just because he can’t say what he wants doesn’t mean he’s brain damaged. Yes he’s confused and thank you very much now I understand why, because he “woke up” or whatever it is and didn’t have a frigging clue where the hell he was or where on god’s good earth you were.”

“You don’t know anything about me or my son.” 

“It would seem you don’t either,” Jake angrily replied as he stood toe to toe with John.

As the argument escalated so did Dean’s distress. He tried to throw off the restraining hands but he wasn’t strong enough. Sam ran to try and calm him but Dean shied away from his brother as if burnt. 

“Don’t touch…” he screamed at Sam. 

“Dean?” Sam asked hurt and confused by his brother’s rejection.

Dean stretched out his hand to Jake pleading for help. “Tell…” 

“Huh?” Jake was equally confused. Did Dean mean tell them that that person tried to assault him or did he want him to tell them about the _thing_ in the warehouse. Both would cause pandemonium and Jake wasn’t sure Dean would cope with the fallout from either.

“Tell me what?” John asked his eyes dark and intense as he took in the scene between Dean and Jake. He couldn’t put a finger on it but whatever was going on between his son and the firefighter, John didn’t like it one bit.

Dean stopped struggling as his father fixed him with a piercing look sending a shiver down his spine.

“Cut it out; you’re scaring him,” Jake shouted at John, as he saw how subservient Dean had become.

John ignored Jake’s comment. “Sam go help your brother, and you,” he pointed to Jake. “…Just get out of the way. You have no idea what he’s gone through lately…”

“Ya think?” It was too much for Jake. Dean was going to have a heart attack at this rate, “Oh for the love of god. When I found your son there was a guy trying to sexually assault him…” Jake blurted out.

There was an audible collective gasp, and then the room fell quiet except for Dean’s labored breathing.

“What?” John shook his head. Surely he had misheard. “He was…what?”

“When I found him he was naked, gagged and tied up and one of the guys was talking about what he intended to do to him. Look I don’t know if anything had happened before I arrived but he was trying to fight off the guy when I walked in…” Jake rubbed a hand through his hair. Sometimes he was so stupid. He knew he could’ve handled the situation differently and now he had hurt Dean by publicly announcing that he had potentially been assaulted. 

John and Sam were shocked and simply stared at Dean who hung his head and kept taking gasping breaths. 

It was inconceivable that Dean could have fallen victim to a couple of predators after all that had happened to him. Hell the guys weren’t ever supposed to be real. The story Sam made up was a ruse, a cover up, so that John didn’t get arrested for rape. The men didn’t exist and yet here sat Dean a casualty of circumstance once more. Life just wasn’t fair and John wondered what he had done wrong in a past life to have so many people associated with him pay such a high price for knowing him. 

He also had no idea what to do to help Dean. He was still struggling with the knowledge that apparently his son was no longer regressed, and now this. That meant that Dean probably remembered what happened in the cabin and that opened up a whole new can of worms. John wasn’t sure he was ready for what might come next. 

The atmosphere in the room became charged. Dr Jessop summoned a police officer; this was something the authorities definitely needed to know straight away. There had been a real concern that the men who had taken Dean might have hurt him, but when he returned to the hospital wide awake and communicative, albeit in a limited fashion, the thought that Dean had been sexually assaulted was low on the list. The paramedics and firefighter hadn’t said anything, so the medical team just focused on treating his more obvious injuries such as smoke inhalation and hypothermia.

But in a heartbeat everything changed and for Dean well it was all too much. His body simply couldn’t cope with the stress and he started to vomit uncontrollably. 

Mary O’Brien grabbed a bowl and wet cloth and tried to calm him down and clean him up while Dr Jessop administered anti-nausea medication. “It’s alright Dean,” she cooed as she rubbed his back while he spewed again and again into the bowl. “Just let it out honey, don’t fight it. The meds will kick in, in a minute sweetheart. There you go. Good lad.”

“Essential staff only in here now please,” Jessop ordered as a police officer entered the room. 

“Officer Norton,” the policeman quickly introduced himself as excess personnel filed past him. “I think we should all go outside and leave the medical staff to deal with this,” he told John, Sam and Jake. “I know you all want to be here but the patient needs privacy and trust me I’m certain he won’t want of you here. So please leave him with some dignity and wait outside.”

Sam lingered near his brother. “He’ll be fine love,” Mary calmly told him. “It’s just all caught up with him. Now go wait outside. We won’t be long here.”

“But...”

“Sam please!” She inclined her head towards the door. “You can come back in when we’re through.”

Sam backed away, “I’m sorry Dean,” he uttered as the guilt threatened to consume him “So sorry.” 

Officer Norton pulled John away from Dean’s bed. 

“I need to be here for Dean,” John stated.

“Look I know you feel you should be here but honestly and I’m talking as a dad...my boys wouldn’t want me in here if it were them. Sure they would want to know I’m here but assault is not easy for anyone and for men well…it’s hard you know what I mean? Dean’s stressed to the hilt as it is, don’t make this harder for him. If you want my advice I’d wait out there with you other son.”

John rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He knew the officer was right but he hated the idea of leaving Dean with these strangers especially as the poor kid didn’t have a clue what has happened in the past two months. Still that would all have to wait. right now other issues took precedence. With one last look at his stricken son, John reluctantly left the room.

“You too buddy.” Officer Norton pointed to Jake. When Jake started to protest the Officer shushed him with a hand. “Save it. I saw the to-do outside. I know the kid wants you nearby but believe me you don’t want to be in here and he won’t want you here no matter what he says. Now outside we need to talk.”

Jake considered arguing but one look at Dean told him that Officer Norton was probably right. Dean had been humiliated enough tonight. He didn’t need to have Jake there watching whatever they had to do to check him out. With a last quick look at the few people left in the room Jake reasoned that Dean was safe from the thing that attacked him, for short while at least. “I’ll be just outside the door Dean,” he told the still heaving man. “You’re going to be fine. It’s safe here.”

“No…stay!” Dean pleaded. “You promised.”

“I…” he saw how distressed Dean was and threw his in hands in the air in defeat. “Look I won’t get in the way,” Jake told Officer Norton.

“Come on son its better if you wait outside,” the officer took his arm and began to drag him from the room. 

“No!” Dean screamed. “Jake…” 

“God let me stay, look at him,” Jake pleaded as he resisted the officer’s efforts.

“This is not up for negotiation, now outside or I will have you arrested and then you won’t be back here at all. Now out.” 

“I can’t just leave him…”

“Yes you can. These are medical people you know the _do no harm_ type. Trust me, he will be fine and when they have finished you can come back in.”

“Jake...help,” Dean pleaded as Doctor Jessop fought to keep the injured man on the table. 

Suddenly Dean went limp.

“What did you do? What happened to him?” Jake yelled at Doctor Jessop. 

“It’s just a mild calmative; he’ll be fine. Now wait outside please,” Jessop replied as he turned his attention back to Dean.

Jake heard Dean weakly call his name and he tried to reach him but Officer Norton blocked his way. “You really want to do that boy? Don’t push my buttons ‘cause I will have you in cuffs quicker than you can blink now get out that door now!”

Jake had run out of options. “Dean I’m right here okay. Trust me I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be outside that door and when they’ve fixed you up I’ll come back in. You’re gonna be okay. It’s safe. Really it is.”

Leaving Dean was one the hardest thing he had ever had to do in his life. The desperation and despair he had heard in Dean’s voice and his anguished screams for help would long echo in Jake’s nightmares. _The guy must be shit scared; to not be able to defend yourself against something you’ve probably never seen in your life would rock anyone to the core but to worry that it’s lurking somewhere nearby, waiting to have another crack at you…well no wonder the guy lost it. Poor bastard._

He stood outside with his forehead pressed against the door, one hand flat against wood as if he could feel what was happening in the room through the contact. Deep down he knew Dean was safe but Dean didn’t know that and that’s what hurt Jake. He felt as if he had betrayed the man. All his promises came to nothing as he was shunted outside. Jake wondered if perhaps what had happened tonight was out of his league; that he made promises he was simply incapable of following through on. Hell he didn’t know where to start and it’s not like he had someone he could share the load with. The only one who knew what had happened was now drugged to the eyeballs and at the mercy of who knows what. 

_You’re a firefighter idiot not a ghost-buster. Get a grip and get a life man. You can’t help this guy_. The only thing is Jake knew for sure was that he couldn’t leave Dean either. Dean had trusted him, how could he let the man down now? _Fuck! Damned if you do and damned if you don’t McAlister. So work it out._

He straightened up and moved to lean against the opposite wall. Dean’s family were there waiting and watching. Nothing was said and obviously after what had been said, friendship was off the menu card tonight. Jake feared that even their mutual concern for Dean’s wellbeing was not enough to bridge that gap. 

About an hour had passed when the door opened and a very tired Mary O’Brien joined them. 

“We’ve given him a bit of sedation so he’s a little groggy. He was a little worked up and considering his fragile condition well, it seemed the best option.” She looked at Jake noting his defeated posture and obvious exhaustion. She patted Jakes arm, “please don’t think you let him down. You didn’t and you couldn’t have helped him because he had gone beyond that.”

“Mary was he…? Did they…?” John struggled to air what was on his mind.

“No.” Mary understood. “They didn’t get that far, but the experience has left him emotionally and physically depleted. He’s going to be fine John, but he will need a lot of support and care over the next few months. Dr Jessop will discuss Dean’s condition with you shortly, but in the meantime you are welcome to go in. Just remember he is pretty out of it so don’t be surprised if he says something odd.” She stared intently at the three men who all wanted to see her patient. “You’re all special to him you know. Please try and get along…for his sake at least. Please don’t make him choose between you; he simply isn’t strong enough to do that right now and honestly you shouldn’t put him in a situation where he has to. So play nice and be good.”

The men nodded, eyeing each other off, sizing each other up and agreeing in that nonverbal way men communicate that Dean came first and they would work the rest out all in good time.

Sam opened the door and went inside but as Jake walked past Mary she held his arm, “You’re obviously someone he needs right now, if you upset him or let him down I will personally castrate you. Do I make myself clear? That boy has been to hell and back and no-one, absolutely no-one, is going to hurt him while I have a say in it. Are we clear Mr. McAlister?” 

“Crystal ma’am” Jake swept her into a hug. “I won’t let him down. I promise.” He said as he then he fled into the room.

“I’ll need a statement,” Officer Norton called after him.

“You’ll get it,” Jake yelled back.

Dr Jessop walked out of the room.

“So?” John asked tentatively.

“Well, he has mild concussion, slight hypothermia, smoke inhalation, a sprained wrist, cuts, bruises and a few minor burns. If this was all he had to contend with then he would be here a few days and then discharged. Problem is he has anemia, a weak heart, is recovering from a coma and a blood clot on the brain. Honestly that boy leads a charmed life. He has cheated death more times than I’m comfortable with and yet he struggles on. Let’s hope now that he is mentally aware that we can get him some counseling and help him through the psychological challenges he now has to face as well as get him back on his feet health wise.”

John rubbed his eyes and sighed. “What now?”

“Well we take it one day at a time. My biggest concern has always been and still is pneumonia and unfortunately the smoke inhalation increases the risk that it will set in. Look it’s a waiting game. The effects of smoke inhalation can take anywhere from eighteen to seventy-two hours to manifest. How he deals with those complications, if they arise, will give us some idea whether we can stave off the pneumonia. So we do what we can for him and watch him closely.”

John nodded but seemed skeptical that things could be that simple. Lord knows Dean has done it rough and lately John couldn’t help but feel that everything was against his son.

“John you once told me not to give up on Dean, that I had underestimated how tenacious he was. You were right, and Dean has proven again and again that he can beat the odds. So don’t you start thinking this is one thing too many. Don’t underestimate that boy’s ability to survive. Believe me, I won’t give up on him and even if he gives up, which I don’t think he will, he has you and Sam and…” he smiled ruefully “a very dedicated firefighter to help him through it all.”

“Yeah the firefighter,” John chuckled. “That one came out of left field.”

“Yes well, Dean trusts him that much is obvious. That boy acted as if we had just stolen his favorite teddy bear when Jake was sent outside. I don’t know what happened between them in the fire but whatever it was, right now he is very important to Dean and whether you like it or not it’s in Dean’s best interest to let the guy see him. At least until Dean is strong enough to decide if he wants or needs the man around. John you’ve told me constantly how independent and determined Dean is. Let him make up his own mind on this. Being sick in hospital doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he wants. Cut them both some slack,” he added patting John on the shoulder. “I’ll come see him in a few hours but if anything develops the staff will call me. So try not to worry and get some rest. You’re no good to Dean if you collapse with exhaustion.”

“I got it Doc.”

“Good. Night John.”

“Night Doc.” John smiled as he watched the doctor walk away. Two months ago every conversation with the man was a battle. Things had changed considerably since then. It would seem Dean just couldn’t help but win people over and in the process the Winchesters had gained some rather remarkable and staunch friends. 

When John entered the room he found Sam and Jake positioned either side of Dean’s bed. Sam watched Jake like a hawk as the other man quietly talked to Dean.

“We’re just waiting on an orderly to take Dean upstairs,” Mary spoke quietly so as not to disturb Dean. “Go talk to your son.”

John cautiously approached Dean’s bed. “Hey kiddo?”

Jake went to move to let John stand next to Dean, “Don’t go,” slurred Dean.

“Not going anywhere buddy. Hey your Dad’s here too.”

Dean tried to focus on his father but the meds made it difficult, “Dad?”

“Yeah it’s me.” 

“Cabin?”

John’s heart sank. “You remember the cabin?” He tentatively asked.

“Don’t wear the boy out,” Mary cautioned as she bustled past the three men to place a warmed blanket over Dean tucking it tightly around him. “He’s tired and the meds will kick in soon. So Dean if you feel yourself dropping off to sleep, don’t fight it,” she advised her patient.

Dean tracked her movements as he listened to her speak. “Yes ma’am,” he finally answered, a touch of the old Dean surfacing for an instant. 

Mary raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. “Well just what I need another cheeky Winchester to keep an eye on. Alright sleep and you three,” she pointed to John, Sam and Jake, “Any nonsense and I mean any, then you are all out of here. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” they replied in unison.

Before John could talk to Dean about what he recalled, his son had drifted off to sleep. That conversation would have to wait until Dean was awake, along with telling him the details of their cover story and a whole bucket load of crap about what has happened over the last two months. There was no avoiding what he had to discuss and he was dreading the very thought of it.

As the orderly wheeled Dean out of the ER, Officer Norton pulled Jake aside. “About that statement?”

“I’m guessing now would work for you?” Jake asked knowing full well that ‘not right now’ would not be acceptable to the officer.

“Works for me.”

“Give me a sec okay?” Turning to John he stated, “I’ll head home and clean up but I’ll be back later to see Dean.” 

Jake didn’t expect any response but John nodded his agreement. 

“Later then,” the firefighter replied. He leant down and whispered in Dean’s ear, “Your safe and you’re not alone. So rest up and we’ll talk later.” 

Jake watched the little group wend their way down the corridor leaving Jake with Officer Norton. “So what do you want to know?” 

**************************************

Dean’s Room Early the Next Day…

“How long do you think he will be out?” Jake asked.

“Not sure really,” John replied. “The nurse was in a while ago and topped up the meds so my guess is a few more hours.”

“He was so scared,” Jake shuddered slightly at the memory of the man screaming for help. 

“Yeah. That was different. Dean doesn’t normally show fear. He’s this cocky guy, all piss and vinegar. It just wasn’t him you know? Can’t put a finger on it but Dean just doesn’t fall apart like that,” John admitted as he mused over what had happened the night before. 

Jake agreed “I guess waking up from a trance and finding yourself trapped in a burning building and no way to help yourself would sort of tilt your world a bit.”

“Does it scare you?” Sam finally spoke.

“What being in a fire?” Jake asked. “Yeah every time man. You’ve got to respect fire. It’s like its alive and if you ignore what it’s capable of, well you pay the price. Gotta love the job though. As the saying goes _your worst nightmare is just another day at the office._ If you want an adrenalin rush then this is the job for you. It’s got it all… fire trucks, a great uniform and danger at every turn. What more can a man ask for?” he laughed. “Always wanted to be a firefighter. Never really thought about anything else I guess.”

“Dean wanted to be a firefighter,” Sam sounded almost wistful.

“Yeah? How come he didn’t do it?”

Sam looked towards his sleeping brother “Just caught up doing other jobs I suppose. He doesn’t say much about what he wants. It’s not his way.”

Jake was beginning to get an insight into the lives of the three men. “You folks not from around here then?”

“No. Been on the road with work. Be settling here for a long while though,” said John. “Dean will need a lot of therapy. The Doc thinks it could take a year before he is on his feet again. His health is pretty fragile right now.”

“He’s going to be okay right?”

“Yeah. It’s just a long haul. His heart is weak. Stress of everything that happened and now this… Look, thanks. For helping him.”

Jake accepted it for what it was. These were men of few words but he knew the intention was heartfelt and honest. He also knew that things were still pretty strained between them, but at least they were trying to make a go of it for Dean’s sake.

“I have to get to work. Got the day shift. Can you…” Jake hesitated. “If he wakes tell him I was here and that I will be back after my shift.” He gently patted Dean’s shoulder, “Back soon buddy,” before heading to the door. “See you folks later.”

“So what do you think?” Sam asked his Dad once Jake had left.

“Seems a good man.”

“A bit pushy.”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think he was so insistent?”

“Because Dean wanted him to be there.”

“Yeah and since when did Dean let strangers into his life?”

“Since we stopped telling him how to live it I guess.”

 

********************************************

**Interlude 1**  
 _Guilt is a weight that will crush you whether you deserve it or not._

 

Dean was back with them and Sam was grateful, he really was. He wandered around Dean’s new hospital room occasionally stopping to look out the window or to check the medical equipment or read the cards attached to the countless flowers and gifts and every so often he sighed. He seemed ill at ease and his endless fidgeting was a sure sign that something was definitely on his mind. Finally he dragged a chair over to his brother’s bed, sat down hunched forward, head bowed and eyes firmly fixed on his hands that now lay clenched on his lap. 

“Okay. Just let me get this off my chest. I am _so_ sorry Dean. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop this from happening; I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me and I’m sorry that you were hurt _again._ I let you down man. I…” He paused, brushed the hair out of his eyes, took a deep breath and ploughed on. “Look I know that if our positions had been reversed you would have sold your soul to find me and save me but…I didn’t know what to do man. When I got back to the room you were gone and I looked for you and no-one, absolutely no-one, had seen what had happened; you had just vanished. Later on when we watched the security tape…” Sam’s voice cracked at the memory, “…well, we had a better idea about what had gone on.” 

“God man you looked terrified and I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. Sorry for everything and now that you are safe I’ve had time to think about it and I was wondering how many times you’ve felt that scared and hid it behind that swaggering, _I’m Dean Winchester_ personality you toss around. It never crossed my mind that when I was afraid that maybe you were too. I mean, you’re Dean Winchester and Dean Winchester can be a pretty intimidating guy. You’re like the cavalry dude, you just turn up and win the battle when it all seems so hopeless and…and I never thought that when I was unsure or nervous or scared about stuff, that you might have felt that way too; because you always seemed so strong and in control when I needed you.” 

Sam looked about the room trying to work up the courage to continue. “I know you think this isn’t my fault but it is, trust me. I had been so focused on finding the thing that killed Mom and Jess that I never stopped to think about you. I was driven, just like Dad, for justice, revenge, whatever you want to call it, but you had a different agenda; you wanted us to be a family. I know you would have done anything to keep us together and I’m sorry for telling you that I would leave once the Demon was dead. I’m not leaving Dean, I promise.”

“Anyway after the accident well, I just wanted a normal life again because the Demon was gone and there was time to think about the future; but you were so hurt and sick and then you woke up but it wasn’t you…well it was you, but not you…anyway my point is, I felt frustrated that we had everything we ever wanted but you were stuck here and life wasn’t normal. It wasn’t your fault; don’t think that’s what I mean. It’s just that everything was at our fingertips but you weren’t well enough to enjoy it. So yesterday before you disappeared I was upset and fed up. Dad was busy trying to find us a place to live and I wanted some peace and quiet, but you just wanted Dad. I think I was jealous because no matter what we ever did, you _always_ wanted Dad and his approval and that really annoyed me, especially when he so rarely gave it to you. Funny thing is, I never told you I was jealous but I didn’t hesitate to fight with you about Dad, about always doing what he said. For that matter Dad always demanded your absolute loyalty and there must have been many times you were torn between Dad and me. God Dean, Dad and I really dumped you in the middle didn’t we?” He shook his head trying to quash the feelings of regret. 

“Anyway when I went to call Dad to see when he was coming back to the hospital, I was so relieved to have ten minutes to myself without you asking for him. How selfish is that? Funny thing is you told me a while back that I was selfish and I couldn’t see it. You see I had lost Jess and Mom and I figured I had lost the most, but you lost so much too Dean and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish our lives could have been different, that you could have had everything you wanted out of life. Anyway you were right I was/am selfish and look at what my selfishness caused. This wouldn’t have happened if I had stayed with you. I know you left the room to look for me. I could tell from the tape that you asked the guys that took you, where I was. See if I hadn’t been so selfish and just sat there with you, they wouldn’t have even found you, let alone hurt you like they did. Dean I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for all this. I know I keep saying it, but I mean it man and I will make it up to you though, I promise.”

Sam cleared his throat and tentatively pressed on, “I know we don’t talk about feelings…yeah I know the drill, _oh god, please don’t tell me we’re gonna have to hug?”_ Sam smiled at how many times he had heard Dean say that. “But the reality is maybe if we had talked we would have understood each better. I know you tried to talk to me about what you wanted from life after the Demon was killed and I tried a couple of times to tell you what was on my mind, but overall man we don’t talk about anything that affects us deep down. I mean look at us, look at our lives…we’re guys and we’re Winchesters so what hope do we have for a deep and meaningful? It’s just not the Winchester way right? Jeez you and I weren’t raised to sit back and discuss how we felt after a hunt, let alone the other things going down in our lives. You know the closest we ever got to talking about stuff was when we sat back in some crappy motel, had a few beers and you might say ‘that was some freaky assed shit Sammy’ and I’d say ‘don’t call me Sammy.’ Yeah talking is _so_ not our strong point. Anyway…well…I can’t say that will change much but we can work on it and I want you to know that I will be more considerate of you from now on and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for taking you for granted.” 

He hung his head and sniffed as a lone tear wended its way down his cheek. “I guess I gotta learn to speak Dean. I gotta learn to think like you man, so I can understand what goes on in that head of yours. Look, what I’m trying to say is that just because you don’t say something, doesn’t mean you don’t think about it or feel it; so I should remember that maybe you’re not as superhuman as you make out. Doesn’t mean I don’t think you can take on the world by yourself; but maybe I should back you up more because you’re my big brother. Little brothers are supposed to help their big brother’s right? I’ve just got to learn to be a better little brother. I owe you that much and a lot more.” Sam tentatively looked at Dean and mumbled, “Okay so that’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry man and I won’t let you down again. That’s a promise. By the way I don’t know if you can hear any of this, but in case you can, then please don’t call me a girl when you finally wake up. Doing this while you are under with the meds was the only way to get it off my chest, because I knew that once you were awake there is no way in hell you’d let me say it.”

Sam smiled, leaned forward, and tenderly brushed the hair from Dean’s forehead, before sitting back and holding his brother’s limp hand in his. “So…we ok? Yeah we’re ok!”

 

********************************************

**Chapter 13** \- _There are no facts, only interpretations._

 

John sat in the small office of the downtown Police station as Lisa Warren, the IMT Liaison officer and a few other police officers detailed the evidence so far. 

“…The firemen originally believed that the warehouse caught fire because the adjoining paint factory was ablaze but early investigations revealed a number of small extinguished ‘spot’ fires on the ground floor of the warehouse around the same time the factory caught fire. It is now believed that someone in the warehouse either deliberately or accidentally caused the factory fire.”

“But you believe that they didn’t start the warehouse fire?” John asked trying to connect the dots.

“No.” Lisa replied bluntly.

“Then what did cause the fire?” He asked confused by what Lisa was saying or more to the point what she wasn’t saying. “Don’t you think it’s odd that you have two buildings, next to each other and both on fire at the same time and the fires aren’t connected?”

“John how about I tell you what we do know and then if you have questions we can work through them okay?”

John nodded his agreement.

Lisa began, “Firstly I want to assure you that both suspects are dead; one having been shot by police and the other it seems perished in the fire.”

“It seems?” John asked eyebrow quirked at the odd description. A description he hadn’t heard since…well not since Mary had died. 

“John the fire burned at such intensity…look the guy was pretty much cremated. Preliminary investigations point toward the ceiling of the room where Dean was held as the fire’s flashpoint. Probably an electrical fault but we will know more once the fire investigation team has completed their report. Fireman McAllister was able to identify both men as having been in the room with Dean prior to the fire starting. He also confirmed that the man killed by police in a shootout outside the warehouse was the one who assaulted Dean and then escaped before the fire took hold. The other man was caught in the inferno.”

As John mulled this over, a cold shiver tracked down his spine. His eyes narrowed and he took on his hunter’s persona as he leaned forward, hands clasped together and elbows on the table, “So let me get this straight the fire burned so hot that you found…”

“Nothing!” Lisa stressed. “We found no hard evidence; which is to be expected given the severity of the fire. There were no fingerprints, no DNA, no blood and nothing left of the guy’s body and nothing to indicate anyone was even in there except the word of a very reputable fire fighter and when Dean is stable we will talk to him about what happened,” Lisa informed him. 

“Okay but back to the fire. Can anyone here explain how you can have two buildings ablaze, one started by someone in the warehouse but that person didn’t start the warehouse fire and now you say some wires happen to short out in the room where my abducted son had been taken to and the whole place burns down because of it. Doesn’t that seem a little weird, a little too coincidental?”

The occupants of the room seemed to look anywhere but at him. The whole thing was obviously beyond them and any thoughts on the weirdness of the situation were not forthcoming as the small group fidgeted and looked about the room.

“John, I simply don’t have the answers just yet,” Lisa finally stated. “But rest assured Dean is safe. I know he didn’t come out of this unscathed, but he is alive and that’s what’s important. Everything else we can take the time to get to the bottom of. So from our perspective we are confident that both men are dead and that Dean won’t be targeted again. That’s what’s important. He _is_ safe. It’s over.”

“Over,” John murmured but for the first time in months John wasn’t so sure it was over. While the police may have thought the two men who took Dean were the ones from a few months ago returning to finish the job; John knew that those men were just a cover story for what really happened at the cabin. The fact that Dean was taken this time was surely just bad luck and these men were probably two perverts who took advantage of a helpless man for their own sick purposes. Still, twenty years of hunting told John that Dean just couldn’t have that much bad luck but stranger things have happened.

What bothered him was that what Lisa described sounded eerily like what he had been told after Mary died; but surely any similarity between how Dean’s abductor died and what happened to Mary was purely coincidental he reasoned…or was it? Still he couldn’t deny that the bizarre circumstances surrounding the fires or the fact that Dean just happened to be there when they began…now that was just downright strange. Was it all just a coincidence? Perhaps. Was he looking for something that wasn’t there? Maybe. The one thing John knew for sure was that he definitely shouldn’t dismiss his concerns out of hand. He would wait to see what Dean had to say before he broke out the rock salt and prepared for an exorcism, but he would be vigilant just the same. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face and reminded himself that the Demon was dead. Sam had killed it. Then again if the Yellow-Eyed Demon had taken Dean, it opened up a whole new set of problems for the Winchesters. Did this mean that the colt didn’t do what they all thought it was supposed to do; that it didn’t actually kill the Demon? Did it mean that the Demon Sam killed was not _the_ Demon and if this was _the_ Demon then why the hell was it coming after them now? It had been two months since that night. It’s not like the Winchesters were a threat to it since the accident especially with Dean so incapacitated. If it was picking them off, one by one, then it made sense to start at the weakest link which was Dean; but it could have done that when he was in a coma. There had been ample opportunity to kill him, why start now? Hell if the thing were smart, it could have wiped out all three of them in the first few days after they arrived at the hospital. It's not like any of them were in a fit state to ward off a kid in a Halloween costume back then, let alone a Demon. No something was off in a supernatural, hair stand up on the back of your neck, sort of way and John didn’t like it one bit…

“John? John?”

He hadn’t realized that his mind had wandered until Lisa called him.

“Go back to Dean. Get some sleep.” Lisa urged. “When the fire brigade finishes their investigation we will know more.”

“I’d like to go to the warehouse…”

“I don’t think that’s wise…”

Using his best ‘I need to see the place where my son almost died’ card he countered. “My son almost died there. I think it would be good for both Sam and I to see the place. For Dean’s sake we need to see it. When he eventually talks about what happened, it will help if we understand at least a little bit about where he was taken.”

Lisa could see the logic in his request. “Leave it with me. I will contact the fire chief and we’ll try and get you down there later today.”

John nodded his thanks as he pushed his weary body to its feet and headed out the door, only to be waylaid by the hospital lawyer Wilson Turnbull.

“Ah, before you go Mr. Winchester.” Turnbull rushed forward as if to physically restrain John from leaving.

It took all of John’s time not to swat the little man away, “You taking up stalking now Turnbull?” John growled.

“This will only take a minute but please…”

John nodded. Better have to the man say his piece than to be followed everywhere he went.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to…” he hastily admitted. “…And I know the hospital executive told you that the hospital accepts blame for this happening, but I would just like to reiterate formally and officially the hospital’s deepest regrets in regard to this situation and we would like you to know that the hospital accepts full responsibility in the matter. We admit liability citing the lack of security regarding propping a fire door open and the dereliction of duty by staff who failed to check on Dean after they had been informed that he was alone. We were hoping that we could settle this matter out of court and I’m sure over the next few days we can come to a mutually acceptable and generous agreement regarding monetary compensation and the long term consideration regarding getting Dean back to full health. In other words, we will ensure that all Dean’s hospital and therapy costs are covered under said agreement.” Turnbull handed John a large thick envelope. “What we propose is all in here. Just get back to us when you are ready and…I won’t trouble you again Mr. Winchester and I personally hope your son fully recovers from his ordeal.”

John took the envelope, somewhat surprised by the man’s concern. “We’ll talk later,” was all John dared to say. He was tired and he wanted to get back to Dean and Sam. There was much to work out and if there was a Demon out there hunting them, then they had a real problem on their hands.

 

********************************************

**Interlude 2**  
 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts._

 

The plight of the Winchesters was front page news and to say John Winchester was displeased by all the interest his family had generated in recent days was the understatement of the century. Indeed John Winchester was utterly mortified by the media attention and he just wanted everyone to leave them alone. Bad enough that Dean was hurt in the first place and John blamed himself for that one entirely, but now the kidnapping and assault, well he didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted his family left in peace to deal with the situation by themselves.

The Winchesters had spent twenty-two years keeping a low profile as they plied their trade. They never sought recognition for what they did and they tried to avoid bringing the authorities down on their heads as they stepped to close to the fine line that separated legal from illegal. They had lived and fought in the shadows and more often than not they moved through the seedy under belly of cities and towns encountering the worst of the natural and unnatural world. They lived simply and no denying, much of what they did was illegal, but they did it all because they were trying to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. It wasn’t the life John would have wanted for his sons but it was all he could offer them following the death of their mother. Now seeing his family and their lives plastered across television screens and newspapers he cringed, because the exposure he was sure would only bring them grief.

In the thirty-six hours since Dean had returned to the hospital, the initial frenzied medical activity that had ensued when Dean entered the ER had morphed into a quiet concern for his wellbeing and a reassurance that he was _safe_ ; hurt yes but alive and _safe._ It had become a mantra. “He’s all right,” anyone who entered the room quietly stressed to whoever was sitting with the injured man. “He’s safe now.” The general relief that Dean was alive was however coupled with the despair that such a sweet young man, who had already endured far too much physical and emotional pain in his life, had been abducted by two callous fiends who had preyed upon his innocence and vulnerabilities and had done him harm. 

Such a view was echoed in the press reports as the media clambered to tell the tragic tale of the young man who was four when his mother died in a fire in their family home and how his father had struggled against the odds to raise him and his younger brother. They explained that despite all that the family had suffered, Dean had grown up to be strong and determined and how his family was the most important thing in his life. They said he idolized his father and was intensely protective and proud of his younger brother. They even mentioned that Sam, the younger brother, was riddled with guilt over Dean’s abduction and described how the man sat a silent vigil praying that his brother would be all right.

John cringed as the reports graphically described how his son had been left brain damaged from a vicious assault and ensuing car accident some two months ago. They told of how Dean had dreamed of growing up to be a firefighter, only to have his dream snatched from him when a truck slammed into his car. 

The media frenzy continued with some reports berating the hospital for leaving the mentally challenged man unattended when his younger brother had left the room. They reminded readers and viewers that the hospital had a duty of care to those who couldn’t look after themselves and yet when the man’s younger brother told the staff he was stepping out for only ten minutes they couldn’t raise even an eyebrow let alone sit with the frightened man. In solemn terms they told readers that none of this would have happened if the hospital had followed procedures and the staff had done their duty. Yes, the hospital was just as much a villain in these stories as were the two men who actually took Dean.

The media sadly announced that since the initial accident the Winchesters had been living out of a low rate motel and that on the day of the abduction John had been trying to find them a more permanent place to live, since he knew Dean would need space to move around during the long months of recovery ahead. It was because his Dad was away on that fateful day that Dean had become restless, wanting his father and so Sam called their Dad to allay his older brother’s concerns that he would return soon. Sam had gone to the lobby to use his cell phone, because as was hospital policy, no phones were allowed in the wards. What Sam didn’t know however, was that Dean had been left alone, ignored by the staff and sadly two villains took that opportunity to wrench him from the loving care of his family and drag him, as he clutched his most treasured possession, a teddy bear dressed as a fireman, out into the cold December night. It defied anyone not to shed a tear as they detailed how the security footage showed the men beating the hapless Dean and how the barefoot and inadequately dressed young man had pleaded for his brother and father to help him, before being rendered unconscious and driven away to an even direr destiny.

It was a heart wrenching tale and like all fairy-tales there was something uplifting to be found in the end. The evil men were eliminated and the young man was rescued from a fate worse than death by a brave fire-fighter who risked his life to get the traumatized young man out of the burning building. What made the story even more miraculous was that the young man appeared to have regained his mental abilities and although he will have months, maybe years of therapy ahead of him, at least he knows who he is. The countless articles and reports always ended with requests for prayers that the young man makes a full recovery and a hope that he and his family can be happy and together at this special time of year.

It was the stuff of Hollywood and the public, just a few days shy of Christmas, embraced the magic of the story and its cast of characters. John, Sam and especially Dean were household words and everyone wanted to meet Jake the firefighter. Local Clergymen were calling it a Christmas miracle and using it as an example for parishioners to reflect on the spirit of Christmas. The constant media attention caused a huge groundswell of support for the Winchesters and within hours of Dean’s rescue, offers of money, cars, jobs, accommodation and support began to flow through the door. The hospital was inundated with get well gifts, Christmas presents, cards and drawings for Dean and his room was more like a florist shop than a sick room. 

For their part the hospital informed John that they took full responsibility for what had happened and had asked to settle out of court. John was astounded and even more so when a local builder, touched by the family’s plight, had offered to give them a house he had almost completed building in a housing estate not far from the hospital. He had said Christmas was a time of giving, that his own life had been blessed and this was the best present he could think of for a family so touched by sorrow. The fire brigade had taken up a collection to buy specialized equipment to help Dean get around his new home and Jake’s unit presented Dean with a complete firefighter’s uniform as an incentive to get better and fulfill his dream of being one of them. There were countless offers to repair their car but John declined all of those, hoping that one day maybe Dean would be able to do that himself.

Yes it was all so perfect, but John knew that anything that good couldn’t last no matter how much he or the boys wanted it to. It’s not that he didn’t want a normal life, hell it was so close he could taste it but his whole life had been about hard work and he simply wasn’t comfortable with being given so much so easily. Still what everyone was offering was given with an honest smile and an open heart. The problem was that John had lived with evil for so long that he wasn’t sure he deserved the goodness that life had to offer. It was like he was at a crossroads and the only problem was John had already sold his soul one cold November night decades ago; he had nothing else to sell and he wasn’t sure he had paid enough in tears and blood to buy it back. So he felt undeserving of all this kindness. However, if he declined the offers he would directly affect his boys and he wasn’t sure he had the right to do that to them, considering the life he had inflicted upon them in the first place. 

The whole thing scared him; scared him more than the creatures he hunted. It scared him more than the Yellow-Eyed Demon and all the things that lurked in the peripheries of his vision, waiting to pounce when he let his guard down. It scared him because John Winchester knew everything had a price and he just couldn’t work out what the price of all this was, or maybe, and he dared not grasp this thought too tightly, everything since Mary’s death had been the price and now he and his boys had reaped their reward. Dare he hope? For the first time in a long while John Winchester wasn’t sure want to do.

So while the press presented Dean as a miracle of Christmas, John prayed that the real miracle of Christmas was that some law enforcement officer in some godforsaken state didn’t try to arrest them for credit card fraud or some other less than savory charge and then all this would disappear in the blink of an eye and Dean would suffer more. 

He mentally calculated all of the times they had run into trouble with the law over the years and reasoned that they had never been arrested for any crime, questioned and cautioned yes, but never charged. So John could only pray that the authorities didn’t look too closely at the Winchesters. In fact if he was right, in twenty odd years of hunting, they had never had a run in with the law using their own name, if you ignore that little problem Dean had with the shape-shifter in St Louis, but John had fixed that months ago. So that meant that the Winchesters were clean unless of course someone identified them as the Aframians, the Connors, the Burwashes or any one of the other hundreds of aliases they had assumed over the years, but if they got lucky maybe no-one would recognize them and then they could just get on with things. 

The reality was John knew his worrying over all the attention was pointless. There wasn’t much he could do to quell media interest or stop the authorities if they chose to do some digging on the Winchesters. Causing a fuss would only garner negative press and more than likely cause someone to delve into their past, so he decided to sit tight, hope for the best and wait for the media to find someone or something else to focus on. This was the Winchesters’ ten minutes of fame and soon they would be just like everyone else, dull boring and…normal and John so liked the sound of that.

If they were lucky, things would settle down in a few days and John could focus on Dean and Sam (both his boys were suffering at the moment), getting them a place to live and finding a job, which paid enough for him to look after his family honestly. Now that the demon was dead, John wanted the old ways dead as well; it was time to look to the future. Dean was going to need a lot of support, but John would be damned if he would lie and cheat to get it. He had medical insurance to cover Dean’s medical needs and hopefully, if nothing else, the media attention would help Dean, not hurt him. If things went pear-shaped well at least the medical insurance would cover everything Dean required, and John would simply tell the authorities he had forced it all on his children whose only crime was to love their father, though John doubted Sammy felt as strongly about him as Dean did, but again he knew that was his fault. So finally John had a plan. Not a great one, not even a good one, but a plan nonetheless and it would do in a pinch and if nothing blew up, authorities wise, then they just moved on with their lives. It could be that simple and John so wanted it to be that simple.

Mind you, John had other things on his mind besides the media scrutiny and an underlying fear of the authorities. Dean had been in and out of consciousness since he returned to the hospital. He was obviously “grown up” Dean, but his ability to communicate seemed severely impaired. The bigger issue to John was that Dean didn’t seem to remember what had happened in the cabin. Not that he blatantly asked, “So Dean remember the night I got possessed and raped you?” No he had been more circumspect in his talks with his son, who seemed to only remember going to the cabin, the rest is a blur of pain and emotion, but no clearly defined ideas of what went down that night. The problem was Dean was barely awake long enough to actually discuss what he remembered, so John was left to dwell on what will happen when his son does remember.

When John had calculated the risk of confronting the demon the one thing he had failed to consider was that anyone of them could have been possessed by the thing. He always saw them as too valuable to the demon to be wasted by simple possession but now using the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight he of course saw the flaw in his theory and using one Winchester to take out another was such a simple and successful ploy. Dean who lay physically and mentally ravaged by John’s possession was proof of how much John Winchester had underestimated his opponent. He hoped Dean would forgive him for what had happened, but he wasn’t holding his breath on that one. In fact he was simply taking each hour as it came, hoping against hope that this wasn’t the moment when Dean remembered.

John found it hard to imagine his life without Dean being part of it. Oh he always knew the day would come when they would lead independent lives, hunting the countryside and keeping in touch intermittingly; maybe catching up in some two bit backwater for a drink between hunts. The family business never leant itself to dreams grander than a sub-standard motel and sleazy bar with a beat up pool table. Still, in these dreams Dean was in his life but after that night at the cabin John had to face reality; maybe Dean wouldn’t want to be in his life or even Sam’s again. After all, John had hurt him and Sam had witnessed it. Maybe after he recovered Dean would just disappear and they would never know what happened to him. That was something John just couldn’t bear to think about.

John wanted them to stay together and try to lead a normal life and being normal was the only draw card he had at the moment. It’s the one thing Dean had always wanted and hopefully it will be enough to keep him with them while they sort out the whole wretched mess. Whatever it takes, John will do it so that he can give back to his boys what they lost the night their mother died. If he can convince Dean to give them a chance, then maybe they’ll all have a shot at being just _average Joe_ Winchesters and not the demon hunting, ass kicking ghost buster family they’d been in the past. 

He briefly wondered if this was a stage of grief that he was going through. You know denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. He had certainly been through the first two and perhaps now he had reached the bargaining stage. He didn’t look forward to the last two, but if he could keep his family together maybe he could ward off the latter and live in the moment. All he knew for sure was that he just wanted a chance to prove to his boys that they are stronger together than apart. After all the Winchesters were a formidable family and even the infamous Yellow-Eyed Demon couldn’t kill them, though he came mighty close.

 

********************************************

**Chapter 14** \- _A spark neglected makes a mighty fire._

 

John was parking the truck at the hospital when he received word that the fire inspector would take Sam and him around the burnt out warehouse in an hour. He had just enough time to collect Sam, word him up on what he had discovered and get back to the site.

He walked quickly to Dean’s room hoping that Dean was still asleep, because if he was awake then John would have found it difficult to leave him alone. Lord knows the boy had suffered enough; he didn’t need to feel abandoned on top of it all.

Luck was on John’s side. “He wake up at all?” he whispered to Sam as he quietly entered the room.

“Briefly. About an hour ago. The nurse came in topped up his meds and he was out again.”

John tenderly stroked Dean’s cheek. “Has he said anything?” 

“About the abduction or about you?”

John sighed. He just knew it was going to be one of those days. “About anything Sam!” John snapped back as quietly as he could. “Look I don’t want to fight okay? Something’s come up.”

Sam slouched in the chair seemingly oblivious to John’s comment and rambled on in hushed tones. “That fire-fighter was back. He stayed a while, asked questions about Dean and us. He made me feel…uncomfortable. I don’t know…next to him I feel inadequate; like I let Dean down somehow. Bottom line; Dean doesn’t need him because where here…”

“…But Dean seemed to need him. After everything your brother has gone through are you honestly going to deny him a friend?”

“You don’t like the guy either.”

“Stop acting like a grumpy toddler, anyway I like the guy, I just don’t know him but Dean trusts him and Dean doesn’t trust easily so…” John shrugged. “I was just down at the police station,” he said changing the subject. “Apparently the fire started in the ceiling and flashed over. Killed one of the abductors, the other escaped through the window and was shot by police. Dean was lucky to get out of their alive…”

“…Because that guy rescued him?”

Sam had a one track mind this morning John thought as he tried to break through his younger son’s…well it almost sounded like jealousy, but he didn’t have time to ponder that revelation at the moment. “Sam focus!” He ordered in that tone that said loud and clear that there was no room for argument. “I don’t think the fire was an electrical fire.”

Sam straightened up, his petulant demur replaced by the keen eye of a hunter. “You think there’s more to this. I knew it!” 

“Maybe. From what I was told it sounds a lot like the report I was given when your mother died. The thing is if it is a demon then is it the Yellow-Eyed Demon or something else?”

“But I killed it Dad!” Sam couldn’t have been more certain of anything in his life. “It was the one and only Yellow-Eyed son-of-a-bitch Demon that killed Mom. I know it was him Dad.”

“Then if you’re right who the hell took Dean?”

Sam didn’t have a clue but the thought that after all those years hunting that they weren’t free of that life made Sam’s stomach twist in knots. “Well if it is a demon then why now and why wait all these months to take him out?”

“Don’t know son. Doesn’t make sense; even using twisted Demon logic it would have been smarter to attack when Dean was in a coma. Besides my guess is it’s not just Dean he wants. The odd thing is we were all so screwed when we first came here so I can’t understand why it didn’t attack then. Why wait until we are stronger, able to fight back? It’s either the dumbest Demon in hell or there is more going on here than we understand.”

“You have a plan?”

John nodded. “You and I are heading to the warehouse to have a look around. The fire inspector is waiting for us.”

“How did you swing that one?” Sam knew all too well how difficult it was to get into burnt out crime scenes.

“I told the police that I thought it would help us help Dean recover if we saw where the attack took place. So look suitably appalled by it all but keep a keen eye out for the usual stuff.”

“Any sulfur or otherworldly signs?”

“You got it!”

“What about Dean? We can’t leave him alone.”

Sam was right, but John wasn’t sure who he could ask to watch his son. It’s not like you could explain to a nurse that you thought a demon was trying to kill the boy and you needed someone to exorcise the thing if it stepped into the room. His concerns were put on hold slightly when Jake knocked at the door.

“Hi is it alright if I come in?” 

John stifled a laugh. Not like the man would take no for an answer anyway but John appreciated the attempt at civility nonetheless. “Yeah,” he replied.

John wasn’t sure what bond connected his son to this stranger but instinct told him that the man would do all he could for Dean and John’s instincts were rarely wrong. More importantly this man was probably the only person, other than a hunter, who would willingly face down a demon if it meant keeping Dean safe. Which raised the question of why? Why would a man who regularly rescued people from dire situations develop such a deep interest in Dean? What made Dean so special?

John’s mind was racing he couldn’t just ask the guy outright to watch out for a demon; but if John was right maybe this guy saw something at the warehouse that night and that’s why he is a little over the top in his need to protect Dean. Maybe, just maybe, he knows more than he is willing to admit; because he doesn’t know what he saw, just that he saw something he can’t explain. If that’s the case then they have an ally, but John didn’t have the time right now to develop his theories. There would be time for that after they had returned from the warehouse. Right now Jake was probably the only person that John would trust to watch his eldest son. 

He cut straight to it, “Look, Sam and I need to go talk to the police. Can you stay with Dean for a couple of hours?”

Out of the corner of his eye John saw Sam bristle, but right now they needed to get going and Jake was a convenient, if not adequate Dean-sitter.

“Ah…yeah…sure,” Jake replied obviously surprised at the request. “I have the day off. So take as long as you need. I won’t let him out of my sight.”

John nodded his thanks, indicated that Sam should follow him, and squeezed Dean’s hand tightly before heading out to the warehouse.

Sam trailed behind John deep in thought as they made their way to the car. Finally he announced, “I don’t trust him…”

“For Pete’s sake Sam give it a rest,” John ordered in a tone that sounded equal parts bone weary and fed up. “I know, okay. I understand, okay but what choice do we have? Something happened in that warehouse. Now either Jake saw a demon or he is a demon but either way I would stake twenty years of hunting on a demon having been at that warehouse. So get over it,” he waved his hand in the air indiscriminately, “whatever _it_ is, because right now we have to be somewhere else and I have no-one other than that man to watch out for your brother.”

*******************************

As they pulled up near the burnt out warehouse they were struck by how little was left. Both the paint factory and the warehouse were shells of their former selves, but what surprised John was that the warehouse seemed to have come off worse. Which was odd since the paint factory would have had an overabundance of flammable material housed within its walls. 

“Not much left,” Sam stated, echoing John’s thoughts.

“Yeah.” John realized that getting Dean out alive had obviously been a close thing indeed. “Come on let’s see what we can find out.”

They found the fire chief who greeted them warmly. “Lisa Warren explained that you wanted to see the scene. I understand, I have boys of my own and Lord knows I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes,” he told them as he shook their hands. “Well as you can see not much remains of the structure,” the chief remarked as he led them over some rubble to what had probably been the front entrance of the warehouse. 

Their senses were assaulted by the intense smell of charred wood and scorched bricks, mixed with the odor of smoldering detritus that wafted upwards from the ruins. The acrid taste of the ash infiltrated their mouth, their eyes watered from the smoke that hung in the air and heat still rose defiantly from the debris around them making them feel far too hot on such a cold winter’s day. They watched a number of firemen rake through the embers extinguishing flare ups, ensuring the fire didn’t spring to life once more. 

They looked up and saw the sky, as the roof had fallen in hours before they had arrived and to their right one wall was gone having collapsed at the height of the blaze, while the remaining walls seemed to support each other perilously as if the slightest breeze would also send them tumbling to the ground. As smoke drifted skywards from the remnants of the once imposing warehouse, snow lazily drifted down, its whiteness a stark contrast to the blackened ruins around them. The whole scene took on a surreal appearance as the cold snow touched upon the smoking remains causing steam to rise up all about them. John couldn’t help but be reminded of a graveyard in the early morning mist and he wondered if, like the cemeteries he and his boys so often frequented, this place now carried the footprints of something that was not of this world. 

“See up there,” the chief pointed to a row of windows a few floors up. “Count in four from the stairs and that’s the room where your son was held.”

John and Sam looked up to where a metal staircase, skewed by the intensity of the blaze, weaved its way to the now non-existent roof. Every so often a beam or two that once supported the wooden floors poked out precariously from the staircase but there was no way that John and Sam could have ventured up those stairs and even if they had, there was no floor left to stand on. Any investigation of that room was now well and truly out of the question.

“We know that Dean was there because Jake, Firefighter McAllister, was able to pinpoint the location.” The chief then turned and faced the gaping hole where an outer wall once stood. “We rescued your boy and Jake from this side of the building. Within seconds of getting them out the wall came down.” He stopped talking allowing John and Sam to digest what he was telling them. “Obviously I can’t get you up there but I hope that just being here will be of help to you both.”

Staring at the devastation John couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of how close he had come to loosing Dean…again. He also knew that something had happened here that couldn’t be explained so he pushed aside the father in him and brought the hunter to the fore. “So how did the fire start?” 

“We found quite a few ignition sites on the ground floor of the warehouse as if someone was tossing about objects that were alight. My guess is the other occupants of the warehouse put out those initial fires and in their effort to stop the warehouse catching fire, probably threw one of the lit objects out the side window where it entered a broken window in the paint factory just a few feet away and the up the factory went,” explained the fire chief. 

“But how did the warehouse catch fire and is it my imagination or does this place look worse than the factory next door?” John asked, still finding it hard to believe that the two buildings could burn down yet have seemingly independent causes. “The police said it was an electrical fault in the ceiling of the room Dean was in. How did you work that out considering there’s no ceiling left?”

“Well we look at what is left behind. You see this as a burnt out building but this place is rich in clues for us. Without getting too technical we have been able to determine the varying temperatures at which the fire burnt. The evidence in the area above the window,” he pointed at the room Dean was held in, “tells us that the fire started there and spread throughout the building. We also know from what Jake McAllister told us, that despite seeing evidence of extinguished fires on the ground floor the building was not on fire as he did a sweep of the upper floors to ensure the place was empty. He said as he opened the door to the room he came across Dean and at the same time the fire seemed to burst from the ceiling and flash over. That would support the evidence we found and puts that room as the origin of the blaze. As to why this place looks worse than the other building, well we were able to get some control over the fire next door before this place went up. So while both buildings were ultimately destroyed the warehouse was well and truly ablaze before we could get units onto it and consequently we lost the battle. It happens; we don’t like it when it does but you can’t save everything and first priority is life. So by the time we rescued Dean and Jake, the outer facade collapsed and we decided that since there was nothing we could salvage we would just let it burn.”

John nodded that he understood but the he still wanted to know why there was a fire in that particular room, however before he could ask Sam beat him to it.

“Wow that’s so weird. I mean Dean being in that room and all.” Sam sounded almost condescending and John cringed at his younger son’s tone. “What would have caused the wires to short out like that right where Dean was?”

“Well stranger things have happened son and I kinda like to see it as good fortune that Jake happened upon your brother at the moment the fire took hold or else you would be seeing the place where your brother died instead of where he escaped from.”

John winced and Sam looked mildly contrite at the not so subtle rebuke.

“Sir I mean no disrespect.” Sam didn’t want the man off side. “It’s just so overwhelming.” He offered as an excuse for his seemingly arrogant manner. 

The weight of Dean’s abduction weighed heavily upon Sam and to be confronted by just how dire a situation Dean had been in reinforced his sense of inadequacy. It would take a long while for Sam to get over this particular event and now, throw the possibility of a demon into the mix and all around Sam felt weighed down by all that had happened.

“It’s alright son. I understand that you’re trying to get your head around it all. What I can tell you is that we think the fire next door overheated the electrics for this building and even though the building had been abandoned for some time the power had never been disconnected; though I think you would have been hard pressed to find a light bulb that wasn’t broken here. In fact if Dean’s abductors tried to fiddle with the light socket well that may well have been the trigger that set the whole thing off. You see, like all disasters they start at the weakest link and we think the room where your brother happened to be was the weakest link in this building. Having looked at the building plans we know that in the ceiling of that room the wires came to a junction, think of it like a mini power station, lots of electricity coursed through this thing. Anyway, we believe a power surge came down the wire and hit the junction. Now this junction was already choked with live wires that were old and some were probably unearthed and when the surge hit it the whole thing went up. So Jake McAlister entered the room at the point when the junction failed which caused a flash over. I know it all seems a bit strange, but fire is strange and in my line of work I have seen stranger so don’t get too hung up on why here and not there. Everything has an answer and coincidence or not, I think we all agree Dean was lucky to get out of there alive.”

“Yes Sir,” Sam replied guiltily. 

Sam’s behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed by John but he felt it better to let it go rather than to exacerbate the situation by reprimanding him in front of the chief. More importantly, John wanted to quickly look around so he could then get back to Dean. Making a scene would only delay things and that wasn’t something he wanted or Dean needed right now. 

“Thanks for giving us the low down,” he told the chief sincerely. “Makes it easier…you know. Look I don’t suppose we can take a minute and then we will leave you guys to it.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem just don’t go too far from this spot and stay away from the stairs; we don’t want anything crashing down on top of you and watch out, some of this stuff is still pretty hot, but yeah take your time I’ll just be over here,” the chief pointed to one of the fire trucks parked a few feet away. 

Once left alone John nodded to Sam, “Stow the attitude boy; we have a job to do. Now you got the EMF recorder?”

Sam prickled at his father’s comment but pulled the device from his coat pocket nonetheless. He concealed it as best he could; the last thing they needed was for someone to question what they were doing and luckily there was enough noise around them that the beeping of the EMF would barely be heard by the men working nearby. There wasn’t much they could scan, but as they moved towards a window the gauge sprung to life. Sam quickly turned it off as John made his way to what had been a ground floor window ledge and there mixed with soot and ash he found traces of sulphur. “Demon dust,” he muttered. “I knew it.”

“A demon! What demon though?” Sam whispered. “I swear Dad I killed the demon so what is after Dean or us for that matter?”

“I don’t know but we’d better get back…”

John’s words were cut off by a scuffle near the fire engine. An old drunk was shouting something about fire fingers and firemen and insisting he tell his story because some fireman had told him he had to spread the word. The Winchesters could only make out part of the conversation because the police on duty dragged the man to the other side of the street. What John and Sam did hear took their breath away. Amidst the confusion the old man shouted “I told you…leave me alone…the fireman…told ‘em all to leave the building…let go of me…ya should have seen him hurling flames at them. He was different that fireman. Different to you lot…”

The old man was bundled away but Sam was certain he knew who he was talking about.

“So you still think he couldn’t be a demon?” Sam asked smugly. 

 

********************************************

**Chapter 15** \- _It’s a fine line between friend and foe._

 

Maybe they should have talked to the old guy or at least asked the police what he was on about. Sam, however, had put two and two together and came up with trouble and now they were hurtling at breakneck speed back to the hospital to rescue Dean. For all they knew they had left Dean in the hands of the very thing that was trying to kill him.

“I knew it!” Sam kept saying. “Didn’t I tell you something was up with that guy?”

“I don’t know Sam. Something’s odd about the guy but a demon?” John shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. “Whether Jake’s a demon or not, it still doesn’t answer the question of why. Why come after Dean now? Just doesn’t make sense. Something is off.”

“Look we don’t have time for this. Just trust me for once. That guy is trouble and I can’t believe I let this happen to Dean again.”

John sighed. He knew Sam had a bucket load of guilt over what had happened to Dean but was that guilt clouding his son’s judgment? He wasn’t sure but he did know that personal feelings had no place in hunting. They hunted because they needed to save someone or protect someone, they didn’t hunt because they hated. Hate made you vengeful and angry…John snorted, hell Sam would’ve said that’s what his Dad had been like these past twenty years and maybe there was some truth in that. Maybe Sam was right but John liked to think that instead of revenge he sought answers and those answers just took a while to get unfortunately and...Well you can’t change the past but being smart about the current situation was the only way they were going to get to the bottom of all this and that’s what was important right now. 

What John did know was that they had a demon on their hands. No disputing that fact but was it Jake? Certainly when Dean returned to the hospital the night before he had been very un-Dean like. John had assumed that Dean would have been relieved to see his family but that didn’t seem to be the case. The way Dean clung to Jake was something John had never seen Dean do before. It was almost as if Jake had told Dean not to trust his family; but why? So the question remained was Jake the cause of the change in Dean or was it purely Dean’s reaction to finding himself in such a bizarre and life threatening situation where he couldn’t save himself and had no choice but to rely on someone else? John had no idea.

The simple fact was despite it being totally uncharacteristic for Dean to accept the help of a stranger Dean had bonded with the man. Whether the guy had a genuine interest in Dean or whether he had some spurious plans for the boy, John couldn’t decide but the crux of the matter was they didn’t have time to waste. They needed to get back to Dean and either exorcise the thing or get an explanation from Jake about why he continued to hang around Dean. This day would not end until they had answers and John was satisfied that his son was truly safe. 

“Can’t you drive faster?” Sam yelled.

“I’m going as fast as I can. Just be ready to run when I stop, okay?”

“How we gonna do this?” Sam asked. “There’s no bullets left for the colt. Holy water? A good old fashioned exorcism right there in the hospital? How do we help Dean without being discovered and ending up arrested or in a mental ward? The last thing I want to do is to be dragged out of there and end up leaving Dean in the hands of that monster?”

“Well first let’s try to work out if Jake’s a demon…”

“Of course he’s a demon!”

“And you know this because…?”

“Because he was at the warehouse Dad and everywhere he went fires started…”

“Jeez Sam, the guy’s a firefighter there’s gonna be fires that’s an occupational hazard not a prerequisite for demonic behavior,” John argued, although part of him was wondering why he was defending Jake. He laughed to himself. _Hell, I’m playing devil’s advocate!_

Sam rolled his eyes, “Look Dean would never let anyone help him if he was hurt. There’s no way he would have clung to that guy last night unless he was trying to tell us something. Dean has that macho shit down pat. He would rather crawl on his hands and knees than ask someone to help him. That’s the Dean I know. The closest you get to an admission that he’s feeling like crap is when he suggests staying an extra day in bumfuck wherever because he says we’ve earned a day off. Hell, even when he was dying a few months back, he told me to take his car and leave him behind. Even then, faced with death, he never said ‘Sammy stay with me and hold my hand I’m scared.’ Dad the guy’s got Dean and Dean is obviously trying to protect us and warn us. Let’s face it, if you can’t blurt out that the guy’s a demon without causing a whole lot of grief, then act the complete opposite to how you normally would to alert your family that something is wrong. That’s what Dean tried to do last night and we missed the signs. Come on Dad, you know Dean. You know he wouldn’t let this guy take over if he had a choice, because Dean doesn’t do help. He doesn’t do needy and he doesn’t make friends. Dad we’ve got to save him before it’s too late.”

Sam was right. John knew Dean would never ask for help. It simply wasn’t his way which begged the question what happened to change that? Jake happened and John didn’t like where that thought took him.

The vehicle screeched to a halt outside the hospital entrance. “Grab the bag,” John called over his shoulder as he bounded into the lobby. Sam, with their bag of tricks slung over one shoulder, quickly followed in his wake.

By the time they reached Dean’s room the adrenaline was pumping. They burst through the door to be confronted by a shocking scene. Jake was leaning over Dean pulling him upright and Dean, despite having a sprained hand, clenched Jake’s shoulders. His knuckles white as he seemed to be trying to get the man to let go of him. His head thrown back, a look of pain etched on his already bone weary face. His mouth was open and his breath was coming in heart wrenching gasps; then without warning his eyes seemed to roll back in his head as he passed out and went limp.

“Get the hell away from my son!” John ordered as Sam quickly raised the gun to Jake’s surprised face.

 

********************************************

**Chapter 16** \- _Reality leaves a lot to the imagination._

Jake looked up at the sudden intrusion and despite staring down the barrel of a shot gun he never flinched.

In Sam’s eyes that was cockiness personified and any normal non hunting, non-drug lord, non-crack crazed, non-sex pervert type of guy would have pissed himself by now. So in Sam’s books this guy wasn’t human or at the very least not normal, which was reason enough to exorcise him especially since from Sam’s point of view Dean looked more dead than alive.

“Let. Him. Go!” Sam repeated as his father shouted ‘Christo’ and tossed holy water at the man in front of him. 

Sam watched and waited for something, anything to happen but the man/demon did nothing.

With a voice that betrayed only the slightest quiver Jake finally spoke, “Look I know I haven’t had the chance to shower this morning but that’s a little extreme don’t you think? If you want me to wash, well then fine. I get it. You’re worried about germs and stuff. Anyway I was just about to call the nurse when you turned up…”

“Get away from Dean.” Sam ordered.

Without waiting for Jake to comply John launched into the exorcism ritual, “Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi…”

“No way in hell,” Jake shouted at Sam. In fact if anything Jake held Dean closer to him. Dean by this stage had come around slightly; his eyes were hooded and his lips parted as he panted for air. 

“…qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto…”

Sam coldly replied, “Wrong answer.” 

“…per mortem tuam mundum vivificasti…”

From where Sam stood, Jake seemed to have placed himself between Dean and his family; a provocative stance indeed. So with grim determination Sam stepped closer because the guy was obviously prepared to take Dean down with him when he was dispatched back to hell and that was something Sam just wasn’t going to let happen.

Jake hefted Dean more firmly in his arms, glaring at Sam. “Back off pal!”

“…libera me per hoc sacrosanctum Corpus et Sanguinem tuum…”

“I swear if you hurt him you demonic son of a bitch …

“If I hurt him? You’re the maniac pointing a shotgun in a hospital.”

“…ab omnibus iniquitatibus meis, et universis malis…” 

“Let him go…”

“You lower the fucking gun first.”

“You don’t have any options here…”

“You think?” Jake scoffed as he reached for the nurse call button.

“…In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” 

Sam lunged smashing Jake’s hand with the butt of the gun and causing the man to fall backwards, Dean crashing to the floor with him. As Jake tried to grab Dean, Sam wrestled the button from Jake’s hand but he also destabilized Jake’s hold on Dean, who now slumped to the floor. Sam leaped upon Jake the gun having been tossed aside in his efforts to subdue the man. 

While Sam and Jake tussled on the floor, John quickly grabbed the gun and shoved it into the bag out of sight from prying eyes. The last thing they needed was to have to explain why they had a firearm in the hospital if someone came in because of the noise. 

A hacking cough made him spin around just as Dean, who was lying on his back on the floor, began to choke. John pulled his son upright, patting his back and whispering words of encouragement.

“Dean calm down. Try and breathe slowly. It’s alright we’ll get the nurse. Come on son.”

Dean laid his head against John’s chest while his good hand clasped his father’s shirt tightly as he fought to breathe in between coughing fits. 

John noticed the tremors that wracked his son’s body but he was more disturbed by the heat radiating from his skin. Dean was burning up. Not in the ‘stuck to the ceiling burst into flames’ type of burning but the ‘seriously ill, lower the temperature before he has a fit’ sort of burning. So not good and so not Jake’s fault especially since the exorcism obviously had no effect on the man. Besides what genuine demon would bother wrestling with a six foot four pigheaded hunter with a gun when he could just pin him to a wall and crush the life out of him with a simple nod of the head. No, Jake was just Jake the firefighter and for reasons John could only guess at, Sam had let his personal feelings cloud his judgment.

“Sam!” John yelled, trying to be heard above the fracas of the two men rolling around the floor. “Sam quit it. He’s not a demon.”

It was obvious that Sam had lots of anger and pent up anxiety but now was not the time and here was not the place and Jake was so the wrong target. The problem was they still had a demon on their hands but more importantly right now Dean needed help and the longer those two morons wrestled the longer it would take to get that help.

John reached up to the nearby bedside table and grabbed a bunch a flowers sitting there. He threw the flowers on the floor and threw the water in the vase at the two combatants. Startled they sprung apart, breath ragged, fists still clenched and clothes wet. 

“Get over it and get up” He told the men. “Sam he didn’t react to Christo, the holy water didn’t make a dent and the exorcism was obviously a dismal failure…”

“Yeah well as you well know holy water doesn’t always work.” Sam challenged as he climbed to his feet and crossed his arms daring his father to argue the point. And John got it, truly he did. Hell when Dean and Sam had rescued him before taking him to the cabin they had thrown holy water on him and it had no effect. When Sam later asked the Yellow-Eyed Demon about the holy water it said “You think somethin’ like that works on somethin’ like me?” So they were both aware of how powerful some demons could be but Jake just wasn’t one of those demons. He wasn’t a demon at all.

“Sammy trust me we’re all on the same side. He’s NOT a demon, so get over it.”

“Who are you people?” A clearly worried Jake asked. He seemed like he wanted to escape the room and yet his eyes flashed to Dean and John saw the resolve in the man to stand by his new friend. “He’s real sick.” Jake pointed to Dean. “I was attempting to help him through a coughing fit when you and Billy the Kid barged in. I was trying to hold him and reach for the call button when he passed out. I didn’t hurt him,” he added almost defensively. “I would never hurt him not after…”

Dean cried out in pain as he tried to take a deep breath.

“Sam get the nurse quick. Jake help me lift him back on the bed.” 

Sam hesitated staring at Jake uncertain that he should let the man out of his sight but John was not in the mood for his defiance. “Do it now Sam. Dean’s sick. We’ll sort the rest out later.” Sam reached for the nurse call button but it was very obviously damaged having been the center of the brawl between him and Jake. So Sam raced out to get help from the nurse station down the hall. 

Jake approached John and took Dean into his arms as John stood and together they eased him onto the bed. Dean moaned and the two men winced to see the pain etched on his face.

John sat on the bed and tried to comfort Dean while Jake hovered within arm’s reach. In fact John had the feeling that Jake wasn’t about to let Dean out of his sight in case he needed to rescue him from his crazy father.

Jake seemed uneasy but he looked directly at John, “I don’t know what’s going on but you do know what just happened isn’t normal right?”

“Where my sons are concerned I do what I what I have to…” John didn’t feel like justifying his actions but he appreciated how it must look to an outsider. 

“Yeah well that sort of crap will get you committed. I may not know what the hell you were sprouting but I saw the exorcist and that sure sounded similar and besides you told Sam I wasn’t a demon. Why would you even have thought I was? Ah...ah…are demons actually real?”

“Yeah they’re real and well…it’s a long story…”

Sam burst back into the room. “The nurse is on her way.” He looked at Dean who seemed to be deteriorating fast. “Is he okay?”

“No Sam he’s not okay. You two fought over him, he got thrown to the floor and he’s burning up with a fever. So let me think, how do think your brother feels right now?”

Dean weakly grabbed for Jake who bridged the distance between them and took his hand. “It’s okay.” Jake tried to reassure Dean. “Help’s on the way. Just hold on okay.”

“Tell…” Dean whispered as he began to cough again.

Jake shrugged and tried to act casual, “Nothing to tell buddy.”

Dean used his last ounce of strength as he squeezed Jake’s hand. “Tell them…” he pleaded.

Jake understood what Dean was asking. He wanted Jake to trust his family who actually seemed buckets of crazy right now. Still the past twenty four hours had challenged Jake in ways he’d never experienced nor even understood; so telling the Ghostbusters what happened in that warehouse was just the next part of whatever alternate reality he’d entered the moment he stumbled across Dean the night before.

Dean turned his pain filled eyes to the firefighter and Jake conceded defeat. “I’ll tell ‘em. I promise.” He agreed as he was pushed aside when Dr Jessop and the nurse raced to Dean’s side.

In the end Dr Jessop, who accidentally stood on the flowers still lying on the floor, took one look at the disheveled appearance of Sam and Jake and ordered them outside. So they sat at opposite ends of a small bench near Dean’s room waiting for news.

“So…?” Jake began.

“Yeah?” Sam sighed.

“You do this sort of thing often?”

Sam shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah!” 

The door to Dean’s room opened and John poked his head out. 

“Hey tweedledum and tweedledee you can come back in but either of you knuckleheads starts brawling and you will be banned until Dean is discharged. Got it? By the way that’s from me and the Doc, so don’t screw it up.”

The men nodded and quietly filed back into the room.

Dean was now properly settled in bed and was sitting up slightly. He was shaking, his body seemed flushed, a sure sign he was suffering a fever and the oxygen mask was on his face. The nurse fussed over an IV drip and tried to ease Dean’s discomfort as he launched into uncontrollable coughing fits every few minutes.

Jake stood back but Sam went up to his brother and gently squeezed his hand.

“You look like shit.”

Dean gave a weak smile. “Bitch!” he whispered back weakly.

“Jerk!” Sam replied his voice choked at how happy he was to have Dean back and yet how worried he was to see him so ill. “It’s gonna be okay. The Doc is great. He’ll fix you,” Sam quietly informed his brother. Sam turned to John and Dr Jessop. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Pneumonia,” Jessop explained. “Probably brought on by the smoke inhalation but to be honest and he looked directly at Dean as he spoke, “you always ran a high risk of getting Hospital-acquired pneumonia simply because you were on a respirator for so long and you have a compromised immune system. Throw in the smoke from the fire and well you’re right in the window of opportunity when we expect something to go wrong and considering your track record it was just going to happen no matter what we did.”

“How do you treat it?” John asked concerned that this would set Dean’s recovery back further.

“We’ve got him on broad spectrum antibiotic and I’ve taken blood to test to see if we can isolate the particular bug that’s caused this. If we can identify it then we will hit it with a more specific drug but what’s going through the IV now will help immensely.” He patted Dean’s arm. “Don’t you worry about a thing. With all these people fussing over you I’m sure you will be bouncing around in no time.” He smiled at his patient and turned to the three men standing nearby. “He needs rest folks, so keep it quiet and calm.”

All three nodded their understanding. Sam had the good grace to look apologetic and Jake just nodded and looked at his feet but the message was clear…anymore nonsense like today and you are all out.

The nurse left the room and as Dr Jessop went to follow he quietly asked John to join him outside. John tried to look up beat as he turned to Dean. “I’m just going to talk to the Doc for a few minutes. The boys will be with you so you try and sleep.”

Dean merely blinked but his eyes tracked John as the man left the room and once he was gone he let himself drift to sleep.

In the corridor Dr Jessop turned to face John. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Dean but I think you should prepare yourself for the worst.”

“What? Is he going to need more surgery?”

“No John.” Jessop looked so sad. He took a deep breath and continued, “the survival rate for this thing is about fifty percent and Dean has gone through so much since the accident that I honestly doubt he will survive it. We will do all we can but the rest is up to him. Look John,” He stepped forward and placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “We’ll do everything humanly possible but it may not be enough and you need to face the truth. Your son is dying and we may not be able to save him this time.”

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

  
**Latin Quotes Taken from “The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass”  
A Translation of the Latin below.**

**Agnus Dei**  
Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi,  
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God living,

qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto,  
who by will of Father, cooperation of Spirit Holy,

per mortem tuam mundum vivificasti,  
by death Your world gave life to,

libera me per hoc sacrosanctum Corpus et Sanguinem tuum  
free me by this most holy Body and Blood Your

ab omnibus iniquitatibus meis, et universis malis.  
from all iniquities my, and all evils.

 

**Prayers at the Foot of the Alter**  
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.  
In name of Father, and of Son, and of Spirit Holy. Amen.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

**Chapter 17** \- _While we are free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions._

 

“So you have something you want to tell us?” John asked Jake the second he re-entered Dean’s room.

John had been with Dr Jessop and while the news of Dean’s condition was grim he refused to dwell on it. After all Dean had beaten the odds before, so why not now? He wouldn’t let Dean give up and he wouldn’t give up on his son without a fight so from John’s point of view the Doc could say what he liked but Dean wasn’t going to die. John simply wouldn’t entertain such an idea.

So now he stood at the foot of Dean’s bed and he was an angry man. Angry that Dean was sick again; angry that Sam and Jake had fought for and over Dean and fuming that after thinking they were free of hunting they still had demons they had to face.

“I repeat do you have something you want to tell us?”

For the first time Jake felt at a loss. John Winchester seemed formidable and while Jake was not a small man in his own right, he felt like an insect as the older Winchester fixed his steely gaze upon him.

“I…” he swallowed convulsively. “I…”

John understood the man’s hesitance. He had been confronted with a shotgun, pelted with water and exorcised all because they thought he was a demon and then to top it off he discovered demons do exist. Jake had had one hell of a day but there simply wasn’t time to coax the answers out of the man. They had to be prepared before the demon struck again.

“Okay let me tell you what I think happened. You were called to the factory fire; you were told to make sure the warehouse was empty in case it caught fire too. You were downstairs when you met an old guy who told you about a man with fire fingers and maybe you even noticed burn marks around the place but you ignored what he said because you thought he was old, drunk or senile or all of the above. How am I doing so far?” John asked the slightly shocked man.

“Eerily spot on,” Jake admitted.

“Shall I go on?” John asked and Jake nodded that he should. “So you headed upstairs to ensure the place was empty and you opened the door to the room where Dean was. Now it gets a little unclear but I’m guessing you saw the guy with Dean and maybe you noticed a man pinned to the ceiling with his stomach cut open and blood dripping to the floor.”

“How…” Jake spluttered. “How the hell could you know that? I never told a soul. Just Dean and I were there and…you couldn’t know…”

Jake leaned back against the wall clearly shaken by John’s uncanny insight.

John grabbed a chair for the man and pushed him into it. “Sit down before you fall down.” John looked at Sam who shrugged his tacit approval for John to continue. “How do I know? Well my sons and I are hunters. We hunt the things that go bump in the night.”

“You mean you’re like the Ghostbusters?” These people were clearly crazy but then Jake had to admit that what he saw in the warehouse was all too real. 

“Yeah we hunt ghosts, water wraiths, wendigos, hell hounds, werewolves, vampires, rawheads, zombies, shtrigas, shape shifters, tulpas, witches, daevas and demons. You name it we’ve probably seen it. If it’s bad we take it out. If it hurts people we track it down and make things right. We hunt the worst there is so people like you can have a normal life and as you can see we sometimes pay a high price for trying to make the world a safer place,” John looked at Dean to strengthen his claim.

“I don’t understand; did you just wake up one day and decide to go hunt that stuff instead of going to work?”

“Let’s just say that there are things that walk in the night and they prey on the innocent. Trust me your life can change in a heartbeat and you can’t ever go back. Some fall apart and others, like us, take up hunting.”

Jake stared at John wondering what he was missing but the identical looks on Sam and the now wide awake Dean told him all he needed to know. Whatever had crossed their path had changed everything and set them onto this life. He didn’t claim to understand them but he knew he had to trust them.

“What did I see?”

“It was a demon but what I’m trying to find out is which demon it was.” John persisted.

“How the hell, no pun intended,” Jake started, “How would I know who…what...it was?”

“Well let’s start by finishing the story. What happened when you entered that room?”

Jake looked at Dean, his eyes were tired but his gaze was firmly planted on Jake, so Jake took a deep breath and told them everything. “Dean was naked, tied up and gagged. He was fighting the guy as best he could but the guy…demon pinned Dean’s legs to the floor and was telling him how intended to…umm take him and how he planned to kill him slowly. When it saw me it stood up and jeez this sounds so weird but you guys do weird every day I guess…okay it shot a burst of fire at me…from its fingers. I ducked and rolled out of the way but it then climbed out the window and jumped. I went to the window expecting to see a suicide splattered on the ground but he got up, fired at me again and took off. I knew it wasn’t normal but I didn’t know what it was either. It’s not like I could just ask anyone about a guy with fire fingers who seemed indestructible.”

“Did it say anything?” John asked hoping to glean some insight into what or who they were dealing with.

“Just before he jumped he said something about the _Prince of Fire._ That’s it. After he disappeared Dean got frantic and then the guy on the roof sort of erupted into flames. That’s when we had a flash over. I lay across Dean to protect him, cut him loose and we got out into the corridor. The rest was just us trying to stay alive long enough until they could get ladder to rescue us.”

“ _Prince of Fire_? That mean anything to you?” John asked Sam who already had his laptop out researching. 

“Well there’s Adramelech. He’s an arch demon and is known as the _King of Fire._ That’s pretty heavy if it’s him. Then there’s Ukobach but he’s from an inferior order of demons. He was tasked with maintaining the fires of hell. Apparently if he is summoned he appears with a blazing body. He is rarely summoned though because he needs a higher ranking demon to make him talk or do stuff. He has no free will and is at the whim of all other demons. Doesn’t sound like the demon you met? Your guy seemed to manage quite well on his own,” Sam told Jake. A tug on his arm startled Sam. “Dean?” His brother was trying to take off the oxygen mask. “No Dean you’ve got to leave it on.”

Dean tried to talk but the words were smothered as he began to cough. Sam held him upright as he gasped for breath. “It’s okay we’ll figure it out…”

“Not dead…”

John raced to Dean’s side. “Who the demon?” 

“Cabin. It was at the cabin. Not dead…warehouse?” Dean struggled for air. 

“Not dead. That’s what he told me when I dragged him out of the room. I thought he was talking about himself,” Jake explained as he joined John and Sam at Dean’s bedside. “He meant the demon?”

“Yeah the demon.” John sighed. Dean had tried to tell him when he saw him in the emergency room but John had misread what his son was trying to say as well.

Dean removed the oxygen mask and with a croaky voice asked, “How’d you get it out…?” 

John went deathly pale. It was obvious Dean didn’t remember what had transpired at the cabin. He seemed to know everything up to the point that he realized his Dad was possessed. John wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or sorry. They needed to deal with what happened that day but they also needed to get rid of this new demon and there wasn’t enough time to deal with both at once.

Instead John focused on something less contentious. “That was a whole sentence kiddo.” John smiled at his eldest boy pleased to see the minor improvement in his verbal skills. “Sammy used the colt; shot me in the leg. It got away, possessed a truck driver who then ran us off the road. Sammy killed it. It’s dead but now there is someone new to contend with and we don’t know who or why. Do you remember anything it said?”

Dean tried hard to focus but the lack of oxygen was playing havoc with his ability to concentrate. “He fought with the guy.”

“Who? The one on the ceiling?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded, “Told him to obey. Said he was…servant of…of Fire and apprentice of the goat…” Another coughing fit stole his breath and he clung to Sam as he fought to regain his composure. 

Sam placed the mask on Dean’s face and settled him back against the pillows. “You always have to have the last word now shut up we can take it from here.”

Dean shook his head and shoved the mask aside. “Revenge…for dead master. Did it for revenge.” He finally conceded defeat. It had taken for too much energy and brain power to relate the information. He let Sam put the mask back in place before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

“Revenge for a dead master?” John mulled over Dean’s words. 

“You don’t suppose the demon I killed was the master, do you?” asked Sam.

“Could be. Look I’m no expert on demons but it sounds like this new demon is or was, until you killed the master, learning the demonic ropes. I think we have a rogue demon on our hands; it belongs to no-one, not powerful enough to challenge anyone and not accepted by any other because the master is dead. It’s a loose cannon determined to take revenge on the people who stuffed up his way of life.”

Jake only had question on his mind. “So how do we kill it?” 

Sam and John both turned to Jake. “You don’t get to even try.” John informed the man.

“No way are you keeping me out of this…” he began but was summarily cut off by John. 

“You have no idea what you are dealing with. These things normally can’t be killed; you can only send them back to hell. We had a gun with a handful of bullets that actually killed these things but we don’t have any bullets left. If it’s an arch demon exorcisms won’t work, they’re too powerful but if this is an apprentice then it might work. However we have to find it first, then capture it and exorcise it all of which takes time. So the last thing I need to do is drag a civilian around with me who thinks he is on a Ghostbusters mission. No, you will not be with us when we go after this thing.”

“Then tell me this; am I a target for that thing?”

“Honestly I don’t know but my gut feeling is yes. The more you hang around here, if it is lurking, possessing someone nearby, then it may identify you as a means of getting to Dean.”

“So use me. Let me be the bait.”

“I won’t risk it,” John declared.

“Look I saw what it did and I can tell you now it scares the crap out of me but no way do I want to find myself or Dean or anyone else I know like that because I didn’t try my darnedest to get this thing. I don’t know how to get it but I swear to god if you don’t let me help you I will go after this thing alone. I bet everyone has a reason for getting into hunting. This will be mine. Either way nothing is going to get to him again,” Jake announced staring at Dean. “I bet he was a gung-ho all guns blazing fighter. Am I right?”

John nodded.

“And look at him now. He’s been molested by a demon; been in a car crash because a demon truck driver hit your car and what else? I bet there’s more to this than I know or you’re willing to tell me. He can barely breathe; he has pneumonia, struggles to put thoughts into words and can’t walk without assistance. I don’t know but he seems pretty fucked over. Do you seriously want to leave it to chance that you might find this thing before it gets to Dean again?”

“So what do you propose?”

“Well we lure it here and then you guys do your thing." It wasn't a great plan. In fact it was a lousy plan but Jake knew it was better than nothing. "So do we have a deal or not?”

 

********************************************

**Chapter 18** \- _Where is the “good” in goodbye?_

 

It’s not easy maintaining control of a room that has more people pass through it than the New York subway at peak hour but that’s exactly what John and Sam were trying to do as they sat in Dean’s room and kept watch for the demon. However, the seemingly endless hordes of do-gooders, doctors, nurses, cleaners, candy stripers and maintenance staff, who surged in and out of Dean’s room made that job near on impossible.

The never-ending flow of people meant that the demon might possess any of them and all John and Sam had as a defense was a salt line, holy water and crossed fingers. The devil’s traps would come into play once they got the thing in the room but at the moment John didn’t want it in the room he wanted it out of it. That meant that every time he heard someone approach Dean’s door he held his breath waiting to see if the salt line broke. A broken line wasn’t a bad thing; in fact it meant that the person who broke the line wasn’t a demon. The real problem was when more than one person came into the room. Once the salt line was broken anyone could walk in and unfortunately the nature of hospitals was that staff hunted in packs and before you knew it there could be a couple of nurses, a doctor and a cleaner all swarming through the door intent on making Dean feel better.

Dean was too ill to be bothered by them or the situation but John was anxious. He didn’t want to have to fend off a demon today because he had other priorities. Dean had steadily deteriorated overnight and that was of greater concern than some rogue demon that was hell bent on revenge. So John hovered close to Dean; trying to be helpful without it appearing as if he was worried.

The men spoke little as the hours ebbed away. Finally Jake asked, “So about being bait…”

“For the last time you are not _bait._ ” snapped John. “You are a target. You stuffed up the grand plan, whatever that was and my guess is you are now on the demon’s list of people to make pay because you got in the way.” 

“Oh.” Jake looked around the room, took in the salt and the devils’ traps and wondered yet again whether he had stumbled into the twilight zone. “So when will it come back?”

“Next Tuesday,” muttered John as he wiped Dean’s fevered face with a wet cloth.

“Really? How can you be so sure?” Jake asked genuinely surprised by the answer.

John glared at the man, sarcasm oozing from every pore; Jake took the hint and wisely refrained from asking further questions.

Sam pursed his lips as he watched his Dad tend to Dean. He knew that John was worried. Yet he seemed determined to stay with Dean and somehow that just seemed odd, considering they had a demon on the loose and Dean was supposed to be getting better…or at least that’s what the doctor had said would happen.

Sam thought about it and realized that despite a bucket load of antibiotics Dean seemed to be getting worse or at the very least no better. His fever was still way too high, chills shook him to the core, his skin seemed faintly blue and he struggled to stay conscious. There were no more pithy sentences from him now. No bitch and jerk banter, no chick flick moment comments and no real coherent words. In fact for quite a while now Dean had been quiet, that’s if you ignore the labored breathing and hacking coughs. Sam began to wonder if he had missed something in Dean’s diagnosis; something his Dad already knew and proceeded to look up on his laptop just what it is they could expect from this type of pneumonia.

Sam flinched as Dean coughed violently and tiny flecks of blood dotted his blue tinged lips and oxygen mask. 

“That can’t be good,” Sam murmured.

John gently eased the mask off Dean’s face and wiped the blood away and replaced the mask. “Hey there kiddo?” John said when he realized Dean’s heavy lidded eyes were staring at him. “How ya doing?” 

There was no escaping it. Dean was considerably worse than the night before and as much as John didn’t want to admit it, maybe Doc Jessop was right. Maybe Dean was dying. 

“D…Dad?” it was a weak breathy cry but John heard it nonetheless.

“I’m here Dean. It’s okay, you’re safe. Salt lines are in place, devil’s traps everywhere, and exorcism rite at the ready. We’ve got it covered.”

Dean tried to focus on John and on what he was saying. “Dy...Dying…” he murmured.

It was said so faintly that John had to think twice before the word registered.

Sam on the other hand knew exactly what his brother had said and leapt to his feet clearly frightened by Dean’s whispered declaration. 

Jake looked around unsure whether to let the family deal with this in private. He stood to leave the room but a voice that tolerated no argument boomed out.

“Don’t even think about,” John roared his eyes fixed on Dean but his hand pointing at Jake. “Sit down!” 

Jake complied. Now was not the time to get into a pissing competition with the older Winchester.

With Jake under control John turned his attention to Dean. He took Dean’s chin in his hand and brought his face level with his son’s, “You. Are. Not. Dying! You hear me Dean?” 

Dean blinked but he didn’t say anything nor did he try to move away from John’s vice like grip.

“Now you listen to me. You don’t get to give up. We have a demon on our hands and it’s gonna come for you and for Jake. You don’t get to opt out early and leave Jake to deal with it. Now you fight this or so help me I will walk into wherever you end up and drag your bony ass back here. Ya got that? Dying is off the menu Dean; find another way to cope.” 

He lowered his hand and stood to his full height and there was no denying that John Winchester was an imposing man. Even Sam felt small in his presence right now and Sam had quite a few inches on his Dad.

John knew he was being cruel but there was no way he was letting Dean give up. If that meant he had to bully and intimidate the boy then he would do it. Besides John reasoned that if Dean could find the energy to speak and to articulate what he felt then he could damn well keep going no matter what the doctor or anyone else thought. Dean was not dying today or tomorrow or the next day and the sooner his son accepted it then the better off they would all be.

So John stood there, hands on hips and waited for the typical compliance that usually came after one of his ‘my way or the highway’ speeches.

“But you’re still here…must be…” 

A chesty cough wracked Dean’s body and he cried out as a sharp pain pierced his chest. John rushed to his side but stopped short of actually helping his son.

 _He’s right,_ John thought, _smart assed little punk._

The simple fact was that John didn’t want Dean to feel abandoned as he took his last breath and Dean had worked out that if his Dad honestly thought he was going to survive the day he would have been off hunting the demon. Instead they had all but barricaded themselves in the room and were waiting. The thing is John Winchester never just waited. He got out there, found whatever it was he was after and dealt with it. So if John was waiting then it didn’t take Dean long to work out that John wasn’t waiting for the demon, he was waiting for him to die and to Dean that was as good as telling him he had permission to close his eyes and let go and he wanted to let go so badly. 

The really sad thing in all this was that Dean had no idea how come he was so ill. He had awoken just a few days ago to find himself in a place he didn’t know with injuries he couldn’t account for. He struggled to speak, his body screamed in agony at the lack of oxygen, his heart was racing, he was in constant pain and his head hurt so much. He couldn’t understand why giving in was so wrong because he had never felt this bad in his entire life. Obviously his Dad didn’t understand just how far gone things were or he wouldn’t have kept at him about it all.

 _So pushy…_ Dean briefly thought before another cough burst forth and he became more occupied with simply breathing.

John wanted to help him but he couldn’t or more to the point wouldn’t. He knew that the will to live was strong provided you had something to live for or to focus on. Unwittingly John had taken away Dean’s reason to keep going by hovering as if he expected Dean to breathe his last breath at any second and to be honest he actually did. He was literally killing his son with kindness.

So John decided to change tack; he was determined to get control of the situation and if he came off as indifferent to his son’s plight then so be it. “That what you think boy? You think I’m here because you’re dying? You better think again. You ever know me to go into a situation unprepared? You ever see me go into something with guns blazing? We needed to know who or what that thing is. Since we’ve worked that out we now have a better chance of dealing with it. So while you slept, your brother here has spent the better part of the day researching this thing.”

Sam lifted his laptop to show Dean that what John said was indeed true. Dean didn’t need to know that he already had the answers about the demon and had in fact being researching the problems associated with pneumonia. He knew he probably looked like a six foot four dork waving around a laptop but he understood exactly what his Dad was trying to do. As much as they both wanted Dean to be free of pain that didn’t mean they wanted him to find peace in death. So if that meant they duped Dean into thinking he didn’t rate, which unfortunately is how he had felt most of his life, then too bad. It would be worth it when he was well again.

John adopted his best drill sergeant voice and growled, “In case you missed it we’re in a hospital. Not a good place to try and exorcise someone is it Dean? We needed to come up with a plan that will get this thing once and for all but doesn’t alert anyone else to what we’re doing. Hell we’ve had enough problems just with maintaining the salt line. Jake told the staff that it was all about Christmas, a little snow to make you feel at home. Lucky for you they bought his story and let us keep it or we would have no way of keeping the demon at bay until we finalized our plan. So stop being so selfish. Cut out the bullshit because we’re doing this for your benefit mister.”

Old habits die hard and Sam was fascinated to see the good little soldier part of Dean take over as he lay perfectly still and listened to what John had to say. In fact if anything Dean seemed to shrink into the bed as John ranted and for just a second Sam could have sworn he saw something akin to fear flash in Dean’s eyes. Sam recognized the obedience but fear was not something he associated with the old Dean. Whatever Dean saw in John, it terrified him albeit for a second and somehow that didn’t bode well if he ever remembers what happened in the cabin.

“So Dean enough of this dying crap. We have work to do,” John ordered before he turned his back on his dying son.

“Grab your gear Sam. We’ve got a demon to catch. And you,” he pointed at Jake. “The furthest you move is to the bathroom to take a piss otherwise you stay right next to that bed.”

Jake nodded.

Sam hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Dean but somehow he knew that staying was a death sentence for his brother. He had no choice. Sam squeezed Dean’s shoulder, “See ya in a while man,” and he never looked back as he walked outside. He didn’t dare or he would have gone back to Dean’s bedside.

John also felt the weight of the moment upon him. He wanted to say something to Dean, anything but he knew if he tried to be kind he would undermine what he had just done and he wanted his son to live. The problem was the will to live could only carry you so far and John hoped that Dean hadn’t passed the point where his body simply gave up on his behalf.

Still he had to do this. He had to walk out of that room. He looked back at Dean and said, “All going well we’ll catch it tonight. See you later on son,” and then he closed the door.

John Winchester, the stoic hunter, stood in the busy hospital corridor with one hand braced against the door frame and stared at the now closed door while tears streamed down his weathered cheeks and in a broken voice whispered, “Where is the 'good' in goodbye? Stay strong son. Just stay…”

 

********************************************

**Chapter 19** \- _Waiting is a form of passive persistence._

 

John Winchester stayed where he was, head bowed, one hand still on Dean’s door and the other covering his eyes as he tried to find the courage to walk away.

“Sir is you alright?”

“Just catching my breath,” replied John weakly as he tried desperately to rein in his emotions.

“Well can you catch it two feet to the left so I can get this through the door please?” Asked a voice that was both unsympathetic for and disinterested in his plight.

John tilted his head to the side and lifted his hand from his red rimmed eyes just enough to see a very large woman, who he was sure worked for WWE on her days off, standing behind an equally enormous mobile x-ray machine.

Sam, already dismayed by his father’s public display of emotion, looked from John to the woman, who seemed to block the light as she filled the corridor and did the most sensible thing he could think of under the circumstances. He half mumbled, half coughed “Christo,” as he very deliberately took a large step backwards, out of harm’s way and arms reach.

Other than a, “Bless you boy,” the behemoth did not react to the word at all. However, she did tighten her grip on the machine and once more addressed John in a tone that was more drill sergeant than caring health professional. “Sir, move it or lose it. This is a hospital and there are people who need my help. Now unless you need an x-ray move away from the door because if you don’t I will run you down.” She paused and took a deep breath similar to the suck zone of a tornado and continued. “Sir if you need a moment, go to the waiting lounge, if you’re having a moment, delay it, because I have work to do and I don’t want to be responsible for this patient dying because you couldn’t pull yourself together long enough to get away from his door. Now move it mister,” she roared.

John snapped to attention, marine muscle memory being what it is and dutifully stepped back towards Sam. He then stared in horror as the woman flung open Dean’s door and barged on through the doorway, salt line be damned. He offered up a silent prayer to the gods above that he and Sam didn’t have to deal with the demon as well as worrying about every Tom, Dick or Lunatic that walked through Dean’s door every thirty seconds and an special prayer that his sick, albeit dying, son survived his encounter with ‘she who must be obeyed.’ 

Sam leaned in close to John and whispered, “She’s not a demon.” 

“Ya think!” John rolled his eyes at his youngest son. “Come on let’s get out of here before she comes out and we find ourselves in a tag team smack down.”

Sam snickered and followed his Dad as they headed off to the relative safety, if you ignored the threat of food poisoning, of the hospital cafeteria. 

Despite having a laugh at the encounter, overall Sam wasn’t happy. Dean was dying and yet his father hadn’t bothered to tell him. _Typical! Some things never change,_ he thought as he raced to keep up with John.

“You could have told me.” Sam shouted from three feet behind his Dad. “You _should_ have told me.” He grabbed John’s arm and pulled the man to a stop.

John knew what was bothering Sam and whirled around to face his son. “It wouldn’t have changed things Sam.”

“Changed what? That Dean’s dying?”

“No, that we had to leave him,” John looked sad in that way that only a parent who has lost a child or knows they will outlive their child can look.

“Oh…ah okay…” Sam couldn’t argue that one especially since Dean had seemingly tied his survival to whether John left him to do the normal _the needs of the many outweigh whatever the hell you need son_ thing. “But you still should have told me Dad,” it was almost a whine but Sam didn’t care. “He’s _my_ brother.”

John looked everywhere except at Sam. How could he explain that he loved Dean enough to walk away from him in his hour of need? How could he prove to Sam that closing the door on Dean was the best choice but not the one he wanted to go with? He wanted to be with Dean. He wanted to make up for all the crap he had dumped on the boy but he just couldn’t stay if that meant Dean gave up fighting; Dean’s will to live might well be the only thing that pulled him through this crisis. 

Sam fumed. It seemed that they had been having this argument since the day Sam worked out that his Dad was a hunter. John had shut them out, yet he expected them to be out there when he commanded it. They had to follow the family business but weren’t able to make a decision in how it was run.

“Stop treating me like a child. Stop expecting me to follow you without question and cut out all this need-to-know shit.”

“I do it for a good reason Sam.” John was seething. He didn’t need this showdown not now and definitely not here.

 _Here we go again. Same old, same old,_ thought Sam. “What reason?”

John had had it. He stepped up to Sam, nose to nose, chest to chest and let fly. “It’s our job! There’s no time to argue, no margin for error…it’s just the way I do things.”

Sam didn’t back down and countered with equal anger, “Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore. Not after everything Dean and I have been through. I’m not Dean and I don’t just fall into line, happy to let you run the whole show okay.” 

The entire conversation reminded Sam of a similar one he had had with Dean when they had been hunting vampires with John a few months earlier. Sam had been so relieved to find his Dad alive and at the same time angered that after months of hunting independently he and Dean were back to being good little soldiers in their Dad’s war on the supernatural world. When he had complained about it to Dean, his brother’s replies eerily echoed his Dad’s now. Either those two were very alike or Dean just knew the party line all too well. Somehow Sam felt it was the latter.

“If that’s what it takes to get the job done then so be it,” John spat back.

“Always your way or the highway isn’t it? If you hadn’t gone and got yourself…” Sam stopped mid-sentence suddenly aware of just what we was about to say.

“If I hadn’t gone and got myself possessed then Dean wouldn’t be lying here now? Is that what you were gonna say? What, you think I don’t say that to myself every single day since it happened. You think I’m happy about what it/I did to Dean and for you to have seen it happen? You don’t think I worry about what will happen when Dean remembers? That fear hangs over me day in and day out.” 

John was dog tired, fed up and just plain pissed off that he had to justify everything he did as if he wasn’t capable of making a valid decision on his own. “Jesus grow up Sam! I didn’t tell you because there was no way I could get you alone without making Dean suspicious and I didn’t want to leave Jake or Dean by themselves and risk the demon getting in when we were unprepared. _I didn’t want to leave Dean._ ” 

He paused, stifled the anger, lowered his voice and continued in a more measured but equally authoritative voice, “I’m sorry son but sometimes being a grown up is just darn hard work but as the parent I get to make the tough decisions for my family. Whether you like the choices I make or not too bad but at least give me some credit will ya? I _never_ go off halfcocked. Everything I do is thought through and this,” he pointed back down the long corridor towards Dean’s room, “is just another example of me having to make a choice that wouldn’t suit everyone but under the circumstances was the right one for Dean. So I damn well made it, okay. So can we call off this alpha male head butting crap until the demon is gone?”

Sam nodded, backed down and stepped away. He wasn’t happy but maybe that had nothing to do with John and everything to do with Dean. He had been there for Dean when his brother had been electrocuted months earlier and had a month to live. He had tended to his dying brother when their father was nowhere to be seen and he felt like he had now taken the back seat and John was doing the driving. So, maybe he was a little jealous that he had to share Dean instead of being the center of Dean’s world. Maybe the problem was mostly his but right now Sam wasn’t ready to admit that but he did agree they had a job to do.

“Okay. I…I’m…let’s get going.”

********************************

Jake was so tired. He had been awake for almost forty hours and his second wind had well and truly petered out. He desperately tried to stay alert as he sat waiting for something to happen but he was fighting a losing battle. 

It had been easier when the Winchesters first left; he was wired, rearing to go. Besides just moments after John and Sam walked out of the room Jake faced his first challenge which had the adrenalin pumping and left him wide eyed and ensured he stayed awake for a few more hours at least.

He had seen off John and Sam, quickly replaced the salt line and returned to Dean’s side with a “we’re on our own now buddy” when the door to Dean’s room was almost wrenched off its hinges by a force so powerful that Jake felt the earth move. There in the doorway loomed a woman of proportions rarely seen outside of side shows and horror films who announced that Dean needed another chest x-ray. Dean’s eyes had grown wide with fear and Jake fought the inner battle of fight or flight, although he was sure he would lose if he chose the former. They both held their breath, which was easier for Dean since he was barely breathing anyway, and waited to see if she crossed the salt line. Well she crossed it alright, swept it into a corner with her colossal paw all the while tut-tutting about the lack of cleaning and how she would pick up that mess after she was done with Dean.

Jake had stuttered _Chris…Christo_ just like he had been told to do, well not the stutter part but at least he managed to get the word out. Her only reaction had been, “Bless you too; lot of that goin’ around this time of year.”

 _Demon my ass,_ Jake thought as he watched her set up the equipment. She might not have been a demon but she was built like Godzilla and Jake decided that he would rather cross paths with the demon than cross her. 

As she readied everything Jake whispered in Dean’s ear a series of pleas and instructions. Things like “don’t fuck with her; don’t argue anything and don’t die because if she has to do CPR on you she will crush you like an ant; buddy there is no coming back from the dead if you need resuscitating from her, you got me?” 

Dean took Jake’s advice and wisely complied with all her demands so she was able to complete her task quickly and true to her word she came back with a broom and swept away all traces of the salt. She then wished Dean and his lovely boyfriend a Merry Christmas before she knocked out a wall and thundered on down the corridor.

“Boyfriend!” Jake snickered. “You ever tell anyone at the fire station about that and you’ll sing soprano for the rest of your days? You got that lover?” He added with a wink and Dean gave him a weak smile in return.

Well that had been a long while ago; it was dark outside now. The wind was howling and the snow falling. Jake surveyed the room with heavy lidded eyes and for the hundredth time that night he felt incredibly vulnerable. There was no salt anywhere; all gone. The leviathan had swept it all away and now he had no way of keeping the demon out. Mind you he was sorely tired of explaining to every man and his dog why the salt had been there in the first place, let alone putting it back in place after the line had been broken. Still what’s done is done and there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

The real problem was that he couldn’t contact Sam and John. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; it was just that his phone had died sometime between ‘let me be bait’ and John deciding it was time to leave him to it. 

The joke of it all was that they, John and Sam, had spent ages arguing about whether the cell phone would work if the demon was nearby and developed a plan based on the fact that a. the demon wasn’t powerful enough to interfere with cell reception and b. all Jake had to do was ring them when the demon revealed itself and now he didn’t even have a phone that he could use anyway.

Jake supposed he should be grateful that the demon wasn’t too powerful but from what he saw the other night at the warehouse it seemed plenty capable of hurting and killing anyone who got in its way. Nonetheless, the Winchester’s had stressed that the demon barely rated on the EMF recorder (whatever the hell that was) so they figured it was just coming into its powers. It seems that there is a hierarchy in hell, go figure, and this demon was so far down the food chain that the only reason it was still out there was because it wasn’t worth anything to any other demon. So it occasionally had flashes of brilliance where it seemed to be a force to be reckoned with and other times it wouldn’t have worked in an iron lung; hence the discrepancy between the EMF reading at the warehouse and the one taken around the area where Dean had been abducted from. 

That was why the plan was so basic because chances are the demon would be reasonably easy to uncover and would hopefully be low on power, _a little like my cell,_ Jake thought wryly. All Jake had to do was ring Sam the minute the thing revealed itself. He wasn’t supposed to have a long conversation; there was to be no “Sam, yeah man. It just arrived do you want to talk to it? …Oh okay…Yeah I’ll get it to take a number and let it know you and your dad are on your way.” No all he had to do was speed dial Sam. One push of a button and Sam had programmed his own phone to ring with the ring tone _Hells Bells._ That had been Dean’s idea before he became too weak to even keep his eyes open and that all happened the night before when Jake had had plenty of charge on his phone and less concern for how this would go down.

Anyway it was a moot point now because his phone was dead and he was incommunicado. Not his fault…well not technically. He had spent so long at the hospital that he simply hadn’t had a chance to recharge it. He had raced home briefly after Dean had been taken to the ward the night of the fire, showered and was back at the hospital so quickly that it never occurred to him that he might not get home again or that the battery would eventually need recharging. Ironic really he had raced back to the hospital to protect Dean and yet now that he was here he was incapable of doing just that because he had a dead as a door nail cell phone.

Jake just hoped that things didn’t go pear shaped because he couldn’t leave Dean to inform the Winchesters what had happened, he had no other means of contacting the ghost busters, no salt or other condiments to ward off the bad guy and no idea what the hell, pardon the pun, he was supposed to do once it turned up. It had been such a simple plan but now it had become complicated and the consequences were life threatening, at least from where he stood.

Yet despite this dire predicament every so often Jake’s eyes drifted closed as fatigue took over. The funny thing was you’d think with his and Dean’s life on the line that he would stay awake but exhaustion had its own rules and this was one fight he just wouldn’t win. The soft lighting, no conversation and hardly any staff interrupting the endless hours, other than the woman from Helga’s House of Pain hours earlier, all helped to create a wonderfully hushed atmosphere and in the end Jake was lulled to sleep by the unlikely melody of the beeps, pings and dings of the various pieces of medical equipment that surrounded Dean. 

Of course it’s at moments like these that trouble often strikes or in this case blunders in…

**End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

  
Banner by Thok Jr

**Title:** The Odds Are…  
 **Part 2**

********************************************

**Chapter 20** \- _There's no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another._

The door to Dean’s room flew open and just as quickly flew back and smacked the individual in the face.

“Shit!” _So much for the element of surprise._

This time he opened the door with equal determination but less force and immediately began to speak, “I am Xaphan named after he who fans the flames of hell. I am the servant of Azazel, who was chief of the Se'irim. I honor his memory and avenge his death at the hands of you and your family. I am here to atone for my sins by taking your life. Your deaths will thereby restore my place in the dark lord’s realm. I am…” he looked at his victims, both of whom remained fast asleep, “I am talking to myself,” he whined as he threw his hands in the air in dismay.

_The Master always made this look so easy._

The demon strolled over to the side of the bed and observed the two men. He briefly wondered if they had been drugged because he had made enough noise to wake the dead and yet neither had moved nor even reacted. The firefighter continued to sleep with head resting on his arms on the bed, while the Winchester boy looked as if he was actually unconscious.

The demon gave into a brief moment of self-satisfaction when he congratulated himself on how well things had turned out so far if you ignore the minor hiccups like getting hit in the face with a door and your intended victims actually sleeping through the whole event. He had been fortunate enough to take over a male nurse shortly before the man finished his shift. That’s when he learned that the night staff was a little busy tonight with some high maintenance patients. Apparently despite Dean Winchester being critically ill, he didn’t need fifteen minute observations or one on one care at this point in time. Everyone was simply waiting to see if the antibiotics did the job, whereas the other patients needed hands on attention. A very convenient situation indeed, so the demon, masquerading as the nurse, simply offered to check on Dean before heading home which allowed the other staff a bit more time to deal with their more urgent patients. It was a most welcome offer and the demon had been given free reign while the other nurses got on with their hectic duties. Yes things had gone exceedingly well indeed.

However, now that he was actually here he was unsure of what to do next. It’s not like he was infinitely experienced in this sort of thing, as he had never been trained by the Master. All that he knew was gleaned from watching how the more skilled demons acted and he liked what he saw but right now it seemed more like trial and error. For instance in hindsight he accepted that his somewhat boisterous entrance a few minutes ago could have alerted the staff to his presence which in turn would have severely interfered with his plans of having a little fun with his victims before their demise. So he comprehended the need to tone it down a bit; besides if the grand entrance didn’t wake them, then maybe he needed to go for the more personal approach by waking each man individually. He decided to try the _welcome to my nightmare_ scenario where Dean wakes to find resident evil lurking at his bedside. 

He leaned down and almost conversationally whispered in Dean’s ear, “Hello Dean. Remember me?” 

He realized his mistake as soon as he spoke. _Remember me? What am I an old friend? I need to be more commanding, more menacing. I am a demon. I can do evil._

“Dean it’s me! Wake up.” He commanded but Dean slept on.

_What to do now?_ He pondered. Even a bear would wake from hibernation if disturbed but not these two so there was not much he could do with two people who seemed capable of sleeping through everything, “God I can pick ‘em. Ah sorry, sorry just a figure of speech.” He added in case anyone of evil importance was in earshot.

He tried again but a little louder this time. “Wake up!” he demanded of the sleeping men but the most he received in return was a grunt from Jake when the man repositioned his head making himself more comfortable. “Come on this isn’t funny anymore. I am important; you can’t ignore me. I’m a demon.” 

His patience was deteriorating rapidly especially when Jake began to snore. “Enough! You will bow before me,” he declared as he raised his hand at Jake and willed fire to burst forth from his hands. Except nothing happened, which was lucky for Jake because otherwise he would have been fried.

The demon tried again impatience warring with frustration. The result was the same. “I must be doing this wrong,” he muttered as he examined his fingers. He mulled over the situation remembering that at the warehouse he didn’t have any trouble at all, “Just had to point and everything caught fire,” he mused.

Still nothing happened. Clearly some force was preventing him from using his powers; not that his powers were terribly strong but they were more than adequate to take these two out although he did fear that nothing short of the apocalypse would wake them and even then he seriously wondered if they would have stirred. 

_Okay no more softly, softly. We are at the business end of the deal and time is running out._

The demon decided that Jake needed to be eliminated first and so he started to walk to the other side of the bed. The only flaw in the plan was that he couldn’t move from the spot he was in. He couldn’t see what kept him where he was but some invisible force was limiting his ability to move from a tight circle next to the bed. In fact he couldn’t even touch Dean and the man was definitely within arm’s reach. 

No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t escape. No amount of grunting, groaning, growling or grumping changed anything. He called for help, begged for assistance and generally whined and moaned about those damned Winchesters and their hokey-pokey tricks but stuck he remained. In fact he remained that way for a considerable amount of time which frustrated him no end because he could neither discern the source of the force confining him nor could he rouse his intended victims. In the end he sat on the floor and waited. Sooner or later someone would come in and as long as it wasn’t the other Winchesters he had a chance of escaping…not sure how he could achieve that but a demon could hope nonetheless.

***************************************

“For the love of God stop eating that shit,” John grumbled as Sam dived into another round of cholesterol filled snacks. 

They had sat in the canteen for hours. No alternative really as they hadn’t discussed with Jake what was considered a reasonable length of time to wait before determining that the demon wouldn’t appear. They just all assumed it would turn up not long after John and Sam left the room. Seems they had miscalculated or at least John hoped that was the case. The only good thing was that no-one had contacted him regarding Dean’s pneumonia. So in this case no news was sort of good news and sort of not. It could simply mean that the demon hadn’t appeared yet or that Jake was pinned to a wall and unable to call or the worst case scenario was that Dean and Jake were dead and their bodies simply hadn’t been discovered yet.

Yes John Winchester was troubled on so many levels the least of which was watching his younger son consume his entire body weight in fries, burgers, candy, cakes, shakes and sodas. 

“Why are you eating so much?” John asked confused by Sam’s uncharacteristic interest in all things unhealthy. 

Sam was the king of lattes and salads; he reveled in low fat, low salt, low sugar and low cholesterol which was so different to Dean who, like his father, worked out his dietary needs by low cost, quick service and no taste. John had taught his boys early in life that Burger King and McDonalds were an essential source of the five food groups. After all a quick cheap burger meal contained bread, meat, vegetables, fruit (tomato is fruit after all) and a shake topped off the dairy portion of the meal. Sam had always been different though; he wanted pasta when John gave them pies, he wanted salads when John bought fries and he wanted yoghurt when John offered ice cream. Yes Sam was the one who challenged John every inch of the way and yet here he sat eating foods that even John would have avoided and that’s saying something.

“Sam!” he yelled and his son jumped. Whatever world Sam was in it certainly wasn’t the same one that John was in. “What are you doing?”

“Eating,” Sam rolled his eyes at the seemingly inane question.

“I can see that but why?”

“I’m hungry.”

“No you were hungry four hours ago now you are verging on gluttony. You do realize that you have consumed enough food to feed a small nation don’t you?”

Sam stared at his Dad mid chew and shrugged.

“So what’s with the sudden appeal in food? Especially this stuff; its hospital food! It will kill you and that’s saying something considering some of the places we’ve eaten at. Now cut it out before I have to get your stomach pumped.”

Sam lowered his burger and stared at his plate. “Dean eats heaps.”

“Dean eats shit.”

“You never say anything to him. He eats what you eat. I…” he looked away clearly not sure about what he was trying to say and yet feeling the need to speak anyway. “If Dean dies then it’s just us.”

John swallowed; he didn’t want to think about his life without Dean in it. It had been him and his boys for over two decades and through the good and the bad this was his family and he didn’t want that to change. 

“He’s not gonna die Sam.” John refused to give into his fears. However that aside he was confused by Sam’s abrupt change in behavior and change in conversation. “So what’s that got to do with you eating everything that isn’t nailed down?”

“I was hungry…”

“But…” John was determined to drag it out of Sam, whatever it was. 

“I was hungry…”

“I got that bit.” _This is worse than pulling teeth,_ John thought.

Sam pursed his lips. “First I was hungry but then I was bored so I kept eating.”

“What else?” There had to be more to this, John was sure of it.

Sam looked him in the eyes and stated, “You and Dean get on. He does what you say and you’re happy. I don’t, so we argue…a lot.”

“Sam I don’t get the connection.” John felt that he should understand what Sam was saying; it was like it was laid out for him to see but he just wasn’t able to connect the dots.

Sam took a steadying breath and then blurted it out, “I didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t planned or anything it just sort of happened.”

John just couldn’t work out what Sam had done and what the hell it had to do with eating everything in sight. “Sam what happened? What did you do?” he asked with growing concern.

“Look if Dean dies then it’s just you and me. So I think I sort of thought that if I was more like Dean then we wouldn’t fight as much. I figured if I ate the same sort of stuff that Dean and you eat then you wouldn’t pick at me about always being different. I guess I’m worried about Dean and bored because we have to just sit here and I just kept eating to keep myself busy. Somewhere along the way I stopped trying to work out why you don’t like me as much as Dean or whether Dean was dead or if the demon had turned up and in the end I just kept eating so I didn’t have to talk to you and end up in an argument again. All I ever wanted was to be good enough for you Dad. And if Dean dies then there is no-one to come between us when we fight and I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives fighting.”

Sam sat back exhausted by his admission and perhaps a little stunned that he had done something so subconsciously that he hadn’t even realized what it meant until John called him on it. 

For his part John was flabbergasted. Parenting wasn’t his strong suite and the reality was that the boys had been dragged up rather than reared in a solid family environment. It was good luck rather than good parenting that they turned out the way they did. 

“So you thought if you ate like your brother I would like you more?” John was glad he never had a daughter because he felt so far out of his league with this he had no idea how he would have coped with girl stuff.

Sam shrugged and stared at the clock on the distant wall rather than face his Dad. 

“Sam I hate to break it to you but we argue because we are alike not because we’re different. We wanted the same thing, to kill the thing that killed your mother and Jess. We found it and you did just that. It’s gone for good. So what you need to accept is that we are two headstrong men who will probably always butt heads even if we want the same thing but son I know for a fact that no matter how much we fight each other you will always have my back when we fight someone or something.”

Sam turned to look at John. His father had never been this candid and he realized that he really didn’t know the man at all. 

“Look son we just do things differently but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you as much as Dean. You are both my sons, I like you for what makes you boys different just as much as what makes you the same. Eating like your brother will not change how I see you or treat you. So please stop this,” he swept hand past the countless empty plates and soda cans, “before you make me sick okay?”

Sam stifled a burp. He had definitely overeaten. “Dumb huh?”

“You could say that. Let’s just say it’s not one of your smarter plans.”

“Yeah well I didn’t plan it; it just happened.”

“Look how about we call it quits here? The food has run out anyway.” He teased hoping to lighten the moment. “And since Jake didn’t call I’m guessing the demon never showed. So let’s get back upstairs and rethink our strategy.”

Sam smiled. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

They headed to the elevator in silence. The sound of the elevator doors opening echoed down the empty corridor at the late hour but neither man felt compelled to say anything to break the silence. They had said so much already. 

Sam rubbed his stomach as he leaned back against the elevator wall while he waited for the door to open at Dean’s floor.

“Something wrong?” John asked.

“Nah just ate too much,” Sam laughed quietly.

John was about to say something when the doors opened. It was so very quiet, so they quickly headed down the long corridor to check on Dean but as they passed the empty nurses’ station John's blood ran cold. It could mean so many things. Maybe the demon had killed the nurses to ensure he had time to do deal with Dean or it simply meant that they were busy do medical stuff. Bottom line was it left him feeling uneasy. 

“Nurses are missing.” John nodded towards the nurses’ station.

“They might be with patients.” Sam wasn’t sure the missing nurses was a bad sign but like his Dad he wasn’t about to ignore it either.

“Let’s do this the smart way.” John pulled out the holy water flask. “When we enter the room, if it’s there I’ll throw the holy water, you grab it and we drag it to one of the devil’s traps if it’s not already caught and then we exorcise it. We move quietly and quickly and get this done with the minimum of fuss and no casualties.”

“Better make sure it’s a demon this time.” Memories of their dismal attempt to exorcise Jake still haunted Sam in a ‘wow that was a major stuff up’ kind of way. 

“I think the holy water will tell us this time. Besides if you’re research is right this thing isn’t all that powerful. The holy water should have quite an effect on it. You ready?” John whispered as they approached Dean’s room. 

Sam nodded and John carefully opened the door… 

 

********************************************

**Chapter 21** \- _Expect the worst, hope for the best and accept whatever you end up with._

 

John and Sam had no idea what they would find on the other side of the door but what they found was certainly not on the list of possibilities.

The first thing that they noticed was the absence of the salt. There had been plenty of salt when they left the room earlier and the last thing John said to Jake was to fix the salt line, so where the hell did the salt go? 

Everything else seemed pretty much the same except it was night now so the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. Dean was almost exactly as they had left him. He was asleep, his face a little flushed but his breathing sounded steady, much to their relief. Jake, his head on his arms on Dean’s bed, was in a deep sleep and he was totally oblivious to the fact that they had entered the room or that a third person was on the opposite side of the bed.

_What the…_ John stared at the individual and then at Sam. Sam shrugged he had no idea either.

It was this other person that John and Sam were most interested in. He was a male nurse from the ward and they had seen him a few times that day before they headed downstairs to await the demon. He had a bruise on his forehead but otherwise seemed okay, if you ignore the fact that he was sitting cross legged on the floor of a patient’s room. The most remarkable thing about him was that he too was sound asleep. 

The Winchesters gaped in surprise because his presence was hard to explain away. There were two possibilities as to what the man was doing there. He was either a concerned staff member who opted to spend a little time with Dean and fell asleep through exhaustion or he was another hapless person whose body was taken over by the demon and had…had what? Fallen asleep on the job?

What’s more if the guy was the demon then why were Jake and Dean asleep and not dead? If the guy was just a nurse then understandably Dean would be alive and most likely sleeping, he was ill after all; but Jake? Jake wouldn’t have gone to sleep just because a nurse was in the room. Besides he was just so edgy before they left. Admittedly they had been gone quite a long while but Jake never called to see when they would be back or even to give an update on Dean, let alone the absence or appearance of the demon. Yet the demon, or at least it might be the demon, was sitting next to the bed fast asleep. Something was definitely not right. 

They needed to work out what was going on before the situation deteriorated into something ugly. Only one way to see what was going on, John opened the flask of holy water and tossed some over the sleeping nurse as well as over Jake and Dean, just in case the demon had decided to take over one of them instead. Dean never moved; Jake jolted awake yelling, “What the fuck is your problem?” as he wiped the water from his face; and the male nurse? Well he howled as the holy water scalded his skin.

_Bingo! We have ourselves a demon._ John thought as he nodded to Sam to start the exorcism.

Sam pulled John’s journal out of his jacket and prepared to read the ritual but the demon began a tirade on what had or more to the point had not happened in the past few hours. Sam couldn’t get a word in edgeways, which was probably a good thing because he really didn’t feel too good at the moment and he wasn’t sure he would be able to open his mouth without gagging anyway.

“It’s about time you showed up,” The demon shouted at John. 

“You talkin’ to me?” John asked as he wondered why his presence was so important.

“Very funny, no I’m talking to Robert de Niro who wandered in after you,” the demon threw his hands in the air in despair. “Of course I’m talking to you.”

“Oh.” 

It wasn’t that John was unsure of himself as he confronted the demon it was just that it was not like any other demon he had ever encountered before. It was like a campy waiter who told you where to sit, what to eat and to mind your manners. It was the exact opposite of the Yellow-Eyed Demon but sadly just as dangerous and perhaps more so because his powers were so erratic. 

Sam looked at John and rolled his eyes. He clearly didn’t care for what the demon had to say because he was having an _I hate it when Dad's right_ moment over having eaten too much. 

The demon was equally unimpressed by either man and stood with arms folded across his chest and foot tapping impatiently, “You two done?”

The Winchesters looked at each other, pursed their lips and nodded, “Yeah…sure…go ahead…” they mumbled, although Sam spoke with one hand over his mouth, a precaution really since he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t throw up.

“Fine. I have been stuck in here with these two Rumpelstiltskins forever.” He noticed that Jake was awake. “Oh right, now you wake up. Is that it? That’s all it took just a bit of water to wake you up. Well that’s just great. I tried everything but you slept through it all.” 

Jake stared at the demon. “Is that a…are you a…you were here? The whole time? The whole time?” His voice rose in shock as he came to terms with the fact that he had been asleep while the demon roamed the room. He looked over at John and Sam. “Hey I didn’t call you guys, so how did you know to turn up?” He was clearly confused and not a little bit worried to be in such close proximity to the thing that had caused so much grief a few days ago.

“Oh get over it,” the demon snapped at Jake. He focused his attention back on the Winchesters. Sam was standing close by ready to read from some sort of book and John had pulled Jake away from the bed to stand behind him. “Yeah that’s right, you pull him away but what about me?”

“What about you?” John couldn’t believe the demon was complaining. “You’re a demon I’m not going to let you go. Anyway why did you come after us now? Why not come after us months ago when the Yellowed-Eyed Demon died?”

The demon was quite happy to talk after hours of boredom, “Oh that’s an easy one. I wasn’t with the master when he died. I should have been but he’d sent me on an errand and look what happened while I was gone.” The demon casually explained. “Anyway he was dead and so were his children, thanks to Dean here, and I had no-one left and no-one wanted me. The other demons blamed me for the master’s death. I was seen as a failure. Bad business really. So I was sort of cast out of hell. Different don’t you think? Anyway it took me a while to get a body to possess and you wouldn’t believe it, I possessed someone who was dumb.”

John was baffled, “I thought you had control when you possessed someone. So how come they were still stupid after you possessed them?”

“No not dumb as in one and one makes three kind of dumb. He was a deaf mute.” The demon imitated signing with his hands. “So I couldn’t find you because I chose the only person within a thousand miles who was physically incapable of making discreet enquiries into your whereabouts? I tell you it was hell on earth for a few weeks there.”

“Hey it wasn’t exactly a bed of roses for us pal after your master tried to take us out with a truck.” John retorted but he stifled the anger because curiosity had him by the balls. “So how did you…you know? Find us.” 

“Well I just had to wait for an opportunity to take over someone who could actually speak aloud. It didn’t work too well though.”

“Let me guess they couldn’t read?” John sarcastically interjected. He couldn’t get over just how inept this demon was. It surprised him that the demon had managed to abduct Dean in the first place, which meant that either the demon had been very lucky the day he took Dean or Dean just had the worst luck in the world. John wasn’t sure which it was.

“Believe me that wasn’t the problem,” the demon explained. “The first time I took him over he was driving. It gave the gentleman quite a shock I can tell you. Unfortunately we had a bit of an accident as a result of my little possession and we ended up here. That was about two weeks ago. He was on the same floor where Dean was recuperating and I was just hanging around. That’s how I found you. I saw you walk past and so I decided that if I could kill you then maybe I could gain some status downstairs, if you know what I mean.”

“So anyone else after us?” John wanted to be sure they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulder.

“Doubt it,” the demon replied. “You did kill a very high ranking demon. You are deemed off limits from what I heard besides there is too much jostling for power now that the master is dead. No-one wants to come after you and risk ending up like him. For me though, I just thought…”

“That you would try and eliminate us anyway,” John was quickly seeing how all this came about and he wasn’t happy. “So how will they treat you back in…you know?”

“Oh I daresay I will be shoveling coal for a few millennia. C’est la vie.”

“Not a bright future,” John pointed out.

“Well at least I will be home and honestly just between you and me, I’m not cut out for this possessing stuff. I’ll leave that for the pros. So how about you answer something for me?”

“Okay,” agreed John.

“I’m stuck. I can’t move from here and I looked for symbols and charms and all that stuff and found nothing, nada, zilch, zip. So what did you do? Come on what’s the secret? Why can’t I move?” 

John walked over to the light switch and turned off the lights. The room was plunged into darkness with the exception of several glowing circular symbols on the ceiling that were strategically positioned around Dean’s bed and the demon was standing right under one of them.

“Oh my!” exclaimed the demon.

When John spoke his tone was icy cold, “It’s called a Devil’s Trap and it got you good. You’re heading straight back to hell,” he stated.

“How did you do that? I never noticed a thing when I came in here.”

“White glow in the dark paint,” Jake announced happily. We sometimes recommend it as an addition to a “lights out” evacuation guidance system. For instance you would mark the edge of the stairs or a walkway in a warehouse so that people can to see where the exits are in case your normal battery operated system fails. Of course this shouldn’t be your only lightning system and it is not supposed to be a replacement for your existing battery powered exit lights but anything and everything is useful in an a emergency.”

John’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he stared opened mouthed at Jake. Sam’s eyes grew wide and he gave Jake one of those ‘quit talking fire safety with the demon’ looks and the demon simply smiled and said, “Well aren’t you a wealth of information sweetie.”

Jake shrugged and almost looked embarrassed by the compliment. 

“So how are you going to cover that up after I’m gone?” The demon asked as he turned in circles to view the light show.

“We’ll keep the lights on,” John deadpanned, as he flicked the lights back on making the symbols disappear.

The demon laughed, “Oh you are a funny one…”

Sam burped loudly interrupting the demon’s comment.

“What’s wrong with you?” the demon asked Sam.

“Hospital food,” Sam replied as he rubbed his now cramping stomach.

The demon seemed sympathetic. “Oh sweetheart that stuff will kill you.”

Sam couldn’t agree more, “Tell me about it…”

“Okay enough of the small talk. If you all don’t mind can we get on with the exorcism now?” John roared, whose patience was at an end.

“So are you gonna do to him what you did to me?” Jake asked trying to look past John to see what Sam was doing.

“You were possessed?” The demon asked slightly surprised.

“No he wasn’t,” John snapped just in case Jake decided to have another long conversation with the demon.

The demon was baffled. “Then why did you try to exorcise him?”

“Because we thought he was possessed okay,” John was fed up with the endless questions. 

“Why would you think he was possessed?”

“Enough. You are getting exorcised right now. Sam read it,” John ordered.

Sam stepped closer to the demon and had to stop himself from asking if the demon was ready. He raised the journal…”

“Is this going to hurt?” The demon asked John. “I don’t do pain.”

“And yet you willingly inflict it on innocent people and would quite happily kill us all if you could get free.”

“That was the old me. Now that we’ve talked I sort of like you. Sam here seems like he would be a reasonable sort of guy especially with that ‘puppy dog sincerity’ he has going and Dean well he was a treat, all that innocence and confusion hidden under that tough exterior. You know even though he had no clue what was happening he still fought back. Impressive and very appealing don’t you think?”

John was fuming as thoughts of what happened to Dean flashed through his mind.

“Then there’s you Papa Winchester, you have so much repressed emotion. That can’t be healthy.”

“I’m fine,” John growled.

The demon wagged a finger at John, “Ah, ah, ah, I don’t think so.”

“Quit with the Oprah routine, shut up and let the boy read.” John pointed to his Kermit the Frog colored younger son, who was seriously struggling to stay upright, “Read it.”

“Well fine but you didn’t answer the question?” The demon pouted.

“What question?”

“Does it hurt? I like to be prepared for things you know.” 

John exploded, “Of course it hurts.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” John waved a hand at Sam indicting he could begin.

Sam began to read the ritual aloud and the demon twitched as the words filled the room. He hadn’t read more than a few lines when he stopped and groaned loudly.

Jake cocked his head to the side looking at Sam. “He doesn’t look too good,” he informed John.

“He’s fine,” snapped John, although he had to admit that the boy did look decidedly ill.

“If you ask me he looks sick,” the demon offered as he rolled his head from side to side easing out the cricks brought on by the exorcism.

“No-one’s asking you. Sam get on with it,” John insisted.

Instead Sam moaned and doubled over clutching his stomach with one hand while desperately trying to hold on to the journal.

“Told you he was sick,” the demon remarked as he stared at the man who was now bent in half in front of him.

Even from this weird position, Sam tried to continue the exorcism but instead of words all that came out was a torrent of spew which amazingly missed the journal and landed on the demon’s feet.

“Oh that’s just revolting,” yelled the demon who couldn’t escape the onslaught.

Sam heaved again, much to everyone’s dismay. By this stage Sam was partly under the devil’s trap and was about to drop the journal but the demon grabbed it before it fell in the mounting pool of vomit at his feet.

“Dad,” Sam called weakly.

John was at Sam’s side in heartbeat. “Jake get a chair and bucket,” he yelled as tried to hold onto his son.

Jake pulled a chair over to the ailing man and grabbed the bin from the bathroom, “Here,” he said as he helped John lift Sam on to it and placed the bin in front of him. “He needs a doctor.”

“He needs his head read,” John muttered. “Didn’t I tell you you’d make yourself sick?” He grumbled at his almost incoherent son. 

“I’ll go get some help,” called Jake as he turned towards the door.

John grabbed his arm, “We need to finish what we started,” he nodded towards the demon.

“Your son is sick.” 

“I know but how do we explain the fact that a nurse is here and can’t move from the spot where he stands to help someone who clearly needs medical attention? Do you seriously think you can rationalize what is going on here?”

Jake appreciated that it would be near on impossible to describe what they were doing without sounding like lunatics. 

“Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi… damn that hurts.”

John held Sam’s unruly hair back as he continued to heave and gag into the bin.

“Jeez, well at least let me go get a wet cloth…” Jake ran to the bathroom to wet a towel.

“…qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto…ouch!”

Jake wiped Sam’s face while John assured his son that they would get help soon.

“…per mortem tuam mundum vivificasti… hello, anyone got a spare Tylenol?”

It was then that the quiet words being uttered in the background finally penetrated John’s brain; he looked up and stared at the demon in utter astonishment. It was holding the journal and rattling off the exorcism verses in between shaking and shuddering. 

“What?” The demon whined a little surprised that John was staring at him. “I just thought I could help by doing it myself.” 

“You can’t exorcise yourself. Give me that,” John grabbed the book back. 

“If you don’t mind can you hurry it up as this is worse than hell,” the demon stated as he tried to inch away the mess on the floor.

“Can you shut up so I _can_ get on with it?”

John took a deep breath and began the exorcism. 

“Libera me per hoc sacrosanctum Corpus et Sanguinem tuum. Ab omnibus iniquitatibus meis, et universis malis: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

It wasn’t pretty and John was almost sorry to see the demon go but go it must, so he pressed on relentlessly. As with all exorcisms when it came to the final words, the demon howled, flinched, shuddered and in a sudden rush it burst forth from the male nurse who unceremoniously fell to the ground unconscious.

Exorcisms aren’t quiet affairs unless the demon has its mouth taped. In hindsight they should of done that to this one; would have saved a lot of useless conversation. Anyway they could easily explain he noise coming from the room by saying it was because Sam was so ill and they sure didn’t have to fake that. The only thing that did surprise John was that Dean hadn’t woken with all the commotion. _Must be the meds,_ he thought as he watched the final moments of the demon.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” exclaimed Jake as he stared at the rapidly dissipating black smoke on the ceiling.

“They can’t help him,” muttered John as he quickly turned his attention back to Sam. “Jake get help quickly,” John yelled. 

Sam was barely conscious and yet he continued to heave his heart out. The nurse on the other hand was just coming to. He was disorientated but otherwise seemed okay. 

“Wha…what happened?” the man asked as he tried to stand but in the end opted to sit where he was for the time being despite being surrounded by vomit.

“Don’t know. We came in and you were out for the count,” John replied. “You were on the floor and you had bruise on your head. What do you remember?” John was hoping the man had no memories of the last few hours.

The man rubbed his forehead. “Not sure really; I was about to go home and…man I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt that I was screaming at some patients to wake up and no-one would listen to me and wow I must’ve really knocked myself out huh?”

“Seems like it pal,” John acted as if it was no big deal and hoped the man would accept his description of events. Besides the guy had only been possessed a short while so hopefully he wouldn’t suffer any lasting side effects.

“He okay?” The man asked noticing Sam for the first time.

“Food poisoning I think.” John wiped Sam’s face although it was a losing battle considering how much Sam was spewing up every few seconds.

“Hospital canteen?”

“Yeah!”

“The food there will kill you.”

John couldn’t agree more.

It didn’t take long before the door flew open and in rushed a handful of nurses with Jake hot on their heels and it wasn’t surprising to hear comments like “John what’s wrong?” or “Is Dean alright?” or “What happened to Sam? Jake said he was ill?” The Winchesters now had celebrity status at the hospital and anything that was even slightly awry was attended to immediately. So the staff quickly assessed the problem and before John could ask what was happening, Sam was whisked away to the emergency room for treatment. Another nurse assisted the still groggy male nurse, who clearly needed some help and a change of clothes, out of the room and another fussed over Dean and the myriad of equipment attached to him.

John was torn between staying with Dean and going with Sam. In the end the nurse made up his mind for him. 

“Dean seems to be doing quite well,” she informed him. “His oxygen levels have increased, his temperature is down and his heart rate steady; seems like the antibiotics are working. Dr Jessop was in earlier to deal with another patient, how about I get him up here to look at Dean? Might give you some piece of mind and in the meantime why don’t you go with Sam. He looks terrible and will probably be grateful to have you there. I’ve already got a cleaner coming to clean up this mess and I’m sure Jake wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer while you’re with Sam.” She looked at the firefighter hoping that he would support her suggestion.

“Not a problem at all. Happy to stay,” Jake told John. “You go with Sam; I’ll be here when you get back.” 

John nodded his thanks to the nurse as she headed out to call the doctor. What a day. He had half expected to be told that Dean had died and yet after all that had happened today the last thing he expected to hear was that Dean was improving. Maybe his son didn’t have bad luck after all.

He tucked the covers around Dean and despite his son being asleep quietly apologized for the stench from the vomit and explained that he was not to worry because someone would be here soon to clean up the mess. He also told him that he needed to check on Sam and would be back when he was sure Sam was okay. So with a final tender touch to Dean’s shoulder, he turned to leave the room.

“Gone?” The voice cracked but the word was clear.

John turned around stunned to see Dean’s heavy lidded eyes watching him and there was no mistaking what Dean was asking about.

“Yeah it’s gone.”

Dean pushed the oxygen mask off his face and tried to talk but his throat was too dry. 

“Here,” John gently lifted Dean’s head so that he could have a sip of water and then carefully eased him down again. “It’s over. You’re safe now,” He assured Dean as he brushed the fever damp hair off his son’s clammy forehead. “All you have to do is concentrate on getting better. That’s all I want okay?” 

“Not your fault.”

“What did he say?” Jake asked.

John crunched his brow clearly missing what it was Dean was trying to tell him. “What’s not my fault?”

“The cabin,” Dean whispered.

John’s blood ran cold as he gripped the side of the bed.

“John?” Jake rushed to the man as he noted the blood drain from John’s face.

“I’m fine. Go tell the nurses Dean’s awake,” he ordered without taking his eyes off Dean.

Jake didn’t argue and headed off to find a nurse.

“Son…” John began but had no idea what to say. 

“Not your fault Dad. Demon did it.” Dean sought John’s hand and weakly held it. “Not you, never you.”

John stood there stunned by Dean’s words and then suddenly his world was tilted on its head again…

***********************************************

  
**Latin Quotes Taken from “The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass”**  
A Translation of the Latin below. 

****  
Agnus Dei

Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi,  
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God living,

qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto,  
who by will of Father, cooperation of Spirit Holy,

per mortem tuam mundum vivificasti:  
by death Your world gave life to:

libera me per hoc sacrosanctum Corpus et Sanguinem tuum  
free me by this most holy Body and Blood Your

ab omnibus iniquitatibus meis, et universis malis:  
from all iniquities my, and all evils:

 

**Prayers at the Foot of the Alter**  
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.  
In name of Father, and of Son, and of Spirit Holy. Amen.

 

********************************************

**Chapter 22** \- _The best way out is always through._

 

“Dean?" John screamed. 

John went from distraught to dumbfound in a heartbeat. One second he was reeling from the revelation that Dean remembered everything and the next he was trying to stop his son from leaving the hospital. 

Yes, Dean Winchester was trying to make a break for it. Despite being closer to death than life, Dean reverted to his old ways of bolting from a hospital the minute he was conscious. Twelve hours ago the young man had assumed his father’s constant presence was a sure sign that he was dying and now in between gasps, coughs, groans and wheezes he assured his Dad that he was fit enough to make a quick get a way. The only problem was this time there was no need to run and every reason to stay.

“Dean stop it!” John yelled as his son suddenly ripped out his IV. “No!” John yelled as he watched the blood flow from the site of the dislodged IV; blood Dean could ill afford to lose.

Ignoring John’s plea to stay put and with a determination that defied his precarious health, Dean shed his blood splattered hospital gown leaving him butt naked. 

“Dad… clothes?” He asked as he waited for his father to help him. Years of having to flee in the night had taught him modesty didn’t count one bit when the authorities are after you. 

When John didn’t respond Dean began to panic; he reassured his Dad that he was fine and ready to get going. Only thing was, he wasn’t fine; not by a long shot. He was physically weak, muscles wasted from disuse; he had pneumonia, was anemic, had a sprained wrist and a leg that needed major physical therapy before he would be able to walk properly. He had suffered a blood clot on the brain; he had survived a number of cardiac arrests and had been in coma for a month. He was far from fine and unaware of how tenuous his hold on life has been but to him the only thing that mattered was proving to John that he is capable of pulling his own weight in the family business. 

John was immobile by the scene unfolding before his eyes. However, the longer John stood there the more agitated Dean became. 

He began edging towards the side of the bed in an effort to prove he was indeed capable of looking after himself. “I’ll get…I’ll get some gear to wear,” he panted.

John just couldn’t understand where Dean found the strength to talk let alone move and finally he grasped Dean’s arms firmly to keep him from doing any more damage to himself, as his son swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

“Dean!” John tried to get Dean’s attention but it was as if Dean didn’t even get that he was talking to him let alone restraining him. “Dean listen to me son…” John shouted again knowing half the ward would hear him but he needed to get through to the boy somehow.

“S’okay Dad,” Dean panted as he eased himself off the bed. Luckily John was there to catch him as he pitched forward when his legs buckled. “I…I just need…a day or two.” He continued oblivious to his situation. “Just need to lie low and then we can…we can hit the road…” Dean assured him. “I’ll be…fine.”

“You’re not fine. You need to stay here son.”

“Dad…have to go…authorities…I’ll be up to the job…you’ll see…”

“For god’s sake stop it!” John reverted to his old drill sergeant ways in an effort to regain control of the situation, “Dean cut it out and get back to bed. That’s an order son,” he roared.

Dean looked devastated and John new exactly what his son was thinking... _Dad doesn’t want me around anymore. I’m a liability._

“Dad?”

“No running this time son,” he informed Dean in a more gentle tone. “This time you stay put and get well.”

Dean kept shaking his head. “I’m alright...I…can keep up,” he wheezed over the noise of the alarms from the various disconnected machines. What amazed John though was that Dean never stopped to wonder why he had so much equipment attached to him in the first place or what would happen if anyone heard the alarms. Dean was running on adrenaline and instinct neither of which would sustain him for long.

As John tried to get a better grip on his naked son, the door to Dean’s room burst open and Dr Jessop and a handful of staff with the crash cart and Jake in tow raced into the room. Obviously the patients’ panel at the nurse’s station lit up like a Christmas tree when Dean disconnected himself and with Jake running down the corridor calling for help they all assumed the worst. 

“John what happened?” Dr Jessop asked startled by the scene in front of him.

“My son decided he was well enough to leave,” John informed the stunned audience. 

“Please…” Dean pleaded with his dad. “I can manage. “ He looked up at John, the fear evident in his eyes. “Don’t leave me here,” he begged. “Please…”

“I’m _not_ leaving you son. I just want you to get back into bed. Dean you’re sick and trust me you need to be here.” He could see that Dean didn’t believe him but Dean stopped fighting him at least. “Jake can you give us a hand?” 

Just as Jake reached them, Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head and what little energy he had petered out as he collapsed. John, who had been holding Dean by his arms, was unprepared when he fainted and lost his hold on his son’s limp body. 

“I got him,” Jake grunted as he grabbed Dean. With practiced care Jake eased them both to the floor where he cradled the naked man in his arms.

Dean’s eyes flitted open and Jake smiled, “Listen I don’t mind coming to your rescue but could you wear clothes next time buddy?” he joked. 

It took a while for what Jake said to sink in but the makings of a blush made its way over Dean’s bare skin as he realized what the man was referring to. “Clothes?” he asked hopefully.

Jake laughed, “Sorry man it seems you and clothes just don’t go together. How about we get you a blanket in the short term and we stay right where we are while these folk clean up the mess. Then we’ll settle you back into bed.”

Dean looked up at Jake with a trust that John had never seen displayed for anyone other than him or Sam and gave in, “Okay,” he simply replied.

“Okay? Okay!” Jake was slightly surprised by Dean’s submission but relieved by it nonetheless. “Can we get a blanket over here please?” He asked the gathered throng. 

The group went into overdrive. A warmed blanket was quickly tucked around Dean and Jake at least affording the ill man some semblance of dignity. 

John crouched down next to the pair and gently pushed the hair back off Dean’s brow. “I know you don’t understand but you have to trust me son. I’m not going anywhere. Sam and I and even Jake here will be with you but you’ve got to stay for a while longer.”

Dean nodded that he heard John but he never looked at him and Dean’s acquiescence was heartbreaking. To see a normally outwardly confident young man so submissive was testament enough that Dean was not well. He might be awake but he was far from being his old self.

While John tried to ease Dean’s fears the nurses changed sheets and found a new gown for Dean to wear while the one duty night cleaner, raced in to remove the last vestiges of Sam’s over indulgence from the floor. It was all hustle, bustle and efficiency. In no time flat Dean was comfortably situated back in bed. Then the real work began. Leads were reattached, IVs redone and the oxygen mask firmly placed on his face.

Through all of it Dean never uttered a word and seemed to have withdrawn into himself totally. Despite John’s assurances, Dean was obviously waiting for the moment that his Dad walked out the door and he was trying to protect himself from the pain of seeing it happen. As John contemplated what he could possibly do to overcome such deep seated fears, Doctor Jessop tried to draw Dean into a conversation.

“Dean, do you remember me?” he asked.

Dean stared at the doctor and finally replied, “The other night,” referring to his time in the ER.

“Very good. I’m your doctor. You’re in a hospital because you were in an accident. You have had a few complications and right now you have pneumonia so I need you to rest.”

Dean acknowledged the doctor but Jessop wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Dean was actually taking on board what he was saying.

Jessop pointed to John. “Dean do you know who this is,” he asked.

For the first time since John yelled at Dean he looked at his father. “My dad,” he answered flatly.

“And what about this person?” he pointed to Jake.

“Jake.”

“Who’s Jake Dean?”

“Fireman. Found me.”

Jessop beamed and nodded at John. “Your boy is doing remarkably well all things considered.”

Dean was tired and only one thing now mattered to him. “Where’s Sam,” He asked slightly peeved to be treated like a five year old. He remembered seeing Sam in the room earlier but he had no idea where his brother was now.

John took a steadying breath, “Sam’s down in the ER…” But he never had a chance to finish the sentence before Dean was trying to leave again.

“Damn it Dean stop it,” John roared. “Your brother is fine. He has food poisoning; too much hospital food.”

Dean thought the demon had done something to Sam and visibly wilted with relief at the news. “Even I wouldn’t eat that stuff,” Dean offered weakly.

A wry smile graced John’s face, “Tried to tell him that but he was a man on a culinary mission.” John paused and remembered that he had been on his way to Sam when Dean began the great escape. He looked over to the firefighter, “Jake I don’t suppose…”

Jake knew what John was asking, “No problem John. You want me to go sit with Sam?”

“Yeah.” John felt torn between his sons. He needed to stay with Dean in case the boy tried to take off again and he really needed to debrief him too but he didn’t want Sam thinking that he didn’t matter either. However one look at the fear in Dean’s eyes and the decision was made. “Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him that Dean’s awake and I need to explain some things to his brother.” He hoped his message would convey to Sam that the time had come to fill Dean in on everything that had happened to him and them since that night in the cabin.

Jake gave Dean’s arm a squeeze, “Good to see you back with us pal and keep that gown on buddy, I’m begging you,” and with a nod to John he left the room.

Dean scrunched his brow, confusion written all over his face. He understood the clothes comment and tried really hard not to blush but the ‘back with us’ bit had him totally mystified.

John really felt for Dean. As far as his son was concerned it was only a few days at the most since the cabin incident; he had no idea of what had transpired in the past two months. John knew that the talk they were about to have was going to be a long and difficult one. There were things that needed to be said and no matter how much John dreaded the moment there was no escaping it now.

First things first though. “Is Dean okay?” John asked Jessop. Lord knows he didn’t want to send the boy into cardiac arrest by revealing everything if he had one foot still in the grave.

Jessop looked at Dean amazed that the man had seemed to defy the odds yet again. “Well despite your little adventure, you are doing fine. Dean the pneumonia is serious. You have to take things easy. Your body is barely able to fight the infection but it is fighting and with the help of antibiotics we will have you up and about in no time. However you have to help yourself and give yourself a chance to recover. Your family has had way too many close shaves to lose you now. So do me and them a favor, rest up. John what about you? You alright?”

“I’m okay. Long day and Sam…” John trailed off. “I just want to talk to Dean, you know?”

And Jessop did know. He didn’t envy the man having to explain what his son had endured and missed over the past few months. He felt he should stay to assist John but he also knew the Winchesters well enough to know that family matters were best dealt with by family.

“Okay here’s the deal. I will arrange for Sam to be brought back here once he is stabilized. That way you don’t have to split your time between the boys. It’s a little unusual but Sam should only need a couple days rest and there’s enough room for another bed. Well also bring in a cot for you.”

John started to argue but Jessop held up a hand to stave off the protests.

“John we had this conversation before. You are no good to your family if you fall in a heap. I’ll prescribe a mild sedative, have a good sleep and start tomorrow fresh. As your doctor it’s the best advice I can offer. Look at it as a Winchester sleepover and the staff will work around the slightly unorthodox setting to ensure the boys are monitored throughout the night. Besides its Christmas Eve tomorrow so I think it might be nice if you were more rested so can enjoy the day with the boys. So do we have a deal?”

John scrubbed a hand over his weary face. So much had happened in the last few days let alone over the last few months and he sorely needed a good sleep. 

“Yeah we have a deal but not before I fill Dean in on what’s been going on. Just give us a little time…please.”

“Well Sam will be while yet, so take your time and if either of you have any questions I will be down the corridor,” he smiled at both men as he quietly slipped out of the room. 

John looked at his son unsure of where to begin. So he took a deep breath and said, “Now Dean about the Impala…”

 

********************************************

**Chapter 23** \- _Bravery is not the absence of fear but the forging ahead despite being afraid._

 

“Now Dean about the Impala…”

“Not the car Dad! Me?” Dean’s voice was weak but his gaze was steady as he fixed John in his sights and asked, “What happened to me?”

“Dean…” It was a simple question but the answer was a lot more complicated. John didn’t know how to talk about that night. Saying _sorry_ seemed so inadequate after what he, or rather the demon, had done to his son. Besides, John really didn’t think now was the right time to have _that_ talk. While Dean had already told his Dad he remembered the _incident_ at the cabin, John was sure his son wouldn’t want a blow by blow description of why it happened and what went down afterwards in terms of dealing with his injuries. Since Dean had already informed John that he knew a demon hurt him and not his father then that was good enough for John to let the matter drop until Dean was ready to discuss it…if that ever happened. They were Winchesters after all and they knew their job came with some pretty heavy occupational risks and hazards. Pitfalls of the job aside, there was still two months missing from Dean’s memory and John felt his son deserved the abridged version of what had gone on during that time and why he has no memory of it.

“Dad?” Dean’s rough voice cut into John’s thoughts. “How long?” He asked.

John was confused. “What?”

“How long have I been here?”

“Oh…a while,” John muttered still a little unsure about whether to even try to explain anything to him since his son was so ill.

“Doc said tomorrow is Christmas Eve.” Dean coughed to clear his throat. “Went…went to the cabin beginning October. Please?” He pleaded. “What happened to me? Did it possess me?” 

John rubbed a hand over his face, pulled up a chair and began to talk. “No! You were _never_ possessed,” he stressed as he squeezed Dean’s arm to emphasize his words. 

John felt Dean stiffen at his touch so he carefully removed his hand and sat back allowing his son a bit of space. He mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. The counselor had warned Sam and him months ago that Dean would probably never admit to his fears about the rape to anyone. She also stressed that being confined to a hospital bed would actually heighten his feelings of vulnerability because he knew he couldn’t protect himself in his weakened state. ‘Emotionally fragile’ was the term she had used to describe his state of mind and advised them to always warn Dean that they were about to touch him so that he wasn’t surprised by the physical contact. These weren’t things they needed to do forever but right now they were practical measures designed to give Dean some control over his body and his life. However until now they had been unnecessary because Dean had spent the better part of the last two months unconscious or had mentally regressed, so the counselor’s suggestions had simply slipped John’s mind. Now John had to face up to what had happened in the cabin and suddenly it all made perfect sense that Dean would be afraid of him on some level. So John needed to give Dean all the space and time necessary for him to deal with his fears.

For his part, Dean knew that when people ended up possessed they sometimes did things that they would never normally do; like his Dad had done that night in the cabin. However knowing it and accepting it were two different things. A part of Dean couldn’t easily brush aside what had happened no matter what he had told John. Somewhere, deep down inside, he was still afraid that the man he had trusted for a lifetime might turn on him again no matter how irrational that seemed. 

Consequently Dean tried to hide his fears about what he now remembered and John tried to remember to keep his distance as he proceeded to tell Dean about the last two months. 

“I promise you son that neither the Yellow-Eyed Demon nor its servant took you over,” John reassured Dean.

“But they did hurt me.” Dean simply pointed out the obvious; he just wasn’t sure how much he had been hurt.

What could John say to that except, “Yes, they did!”

“Bad?”

“Bad enough.”

Dean turned his head away, unwilling to face his Dad as he tried to reign in the swirl of emotions that he now felt for something that had happened to him months ago and yet he couldn’t remember it, well not all of it anyway.

“Dean you’ve been in the hospital for two months,” John explained. “Do you remember that I told you Sam shot me in the leg? That the Yellow-Eyed Demon escaped but it possessed a truck driver…”

“…the guy ran us off the road,” Dean informed his Dad, “So? How come I ended up here?” He gasped out. “We look after ourselves,” Dean reminded his Dad.

“We do but son when that eighteen wheeler rammed us it really did a number on us; but Sam killed the demon when it tried to come after us in the wreck.”

Dean turned to face John, his eyes wide with shock, “I thought you said it forced us off the road. It hit us? Hit the Impala?” he asked incredulously; his brow furrowed as he tried to locate the missing memory of that terrible moment.

Now John knew exactly what Dean didn’t remember and just how much he needed to be told. “Okay, well there are a few things I need to tell you son…”

*******************************************

“Where’s Dad?” 

Jake looked up as the hoarse voice cut into his mindless reading. He tossed the magazine aside and stood next to Sam’s bed in the ER.

“How ya doin’?” he asked the exhausted looking young man.

“Been better,” Sam admitted. “So where’s Dad?”

“With Dean.”

Sam’s eyes grew huge. “He’s awake…he’s okay?”

“Uhm yeah. Your Dad said to tell you…”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Sam launched himself off the bed. His IV drip pulled free and the pole supporting the IV bag crashed noisily to the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jake demanded as he tried to push Sam back onto the bed.

“I have to get to Dean,” Sam hoarsely replied.

“Are you crazy? You spewed up more than that kid in the _Exorcist._ Give yourself a break and get back into bed. Dean’s not going anywhere and neither are you,” he tried to explain as Sam fought him for control.

“No,” Sam argued as tried to push Jake away. “You don’t understand,” he yelled as he pitched forward on unsteady feet. 

“Don’t fight me man,” Jake ordered in his best ‘I’m here to rescue you’ voice. 

“Please,” Sam pleaded weakly as he began to vomit again. His strength depleted by hours of illness, Sam faintly whispered. “I have to…I have…” before his body failed him and he tumbled forward into Jake’s arms.

Jake caught the unconscious man, “What is it with you Winchesters?” he muttered as he attempted to haul Sam back onto the bed. “I’ve heard of being there for each other but you three take it to the next level. You know I had a normal life until I met you guys. Normal you hear me? NORMAL! But you guys don’t do normal do you?” he huffed, although it was a very one-sided argument anyway. 

“Nurse?” He shouted hoping someone would come to his rescue. “Help! Spill in aisle five…we have vomit people…I repeat we have vomit…we need a mop here,” he shouted as he struggled to keep Sam from falling to the floor. “Okay not funny…someone…anyone? Help!”

********************************************

Dean was staring at the wall again. 

Not only had he been told what had happened after the accident but part of filling in the blanks for Dean included relating the cover story that Sam had created. Dean needed to be familiar with the story to ensure that none of them ended up in prison for a myriad of things the least of which was murdering a truck driver, even though the man had been possessed. Lord knows it was a lot for someone still close to death’s door to understand but Dean did the best he could.

“It’s a lot to take in,” John mumbled. “I know it’s hard to believe and honestly I don’t think I ever seriously thought about what could go wrong when you have multiple injuries like you’ve suffered.” John remembered how tough it had been watching Dean trying to cope with the complications of his injuries and it hadn’t been an easy time for either of them. “All those times hunting when one of us was shot or broke a rib or was knocked unconscious, well I don’t have to remind you about those days but I never thought about how those injuries might have turned bad. Maybe we were just lucky…” 

John knew he was rambling and it was clear that Dean hadn’t responded well to what he had just been told but John honestly didn’t know the best way to talk to his son about what had happened. It had been easy as hunters: John ordered and Dean obeyed. It had to be that way in hunting; no room for committee meetings but being in a family was different especially when you had two adult sons to look out for. Now he was simply a concerned Dad trying to make one of those boys feel better. The problem was John didn’t know how to make Dean feel better; especially since he had just told him that not only had he suffered life threatening injuries but that his prized possession, his beloved car, was pretty much a write-off. No wonder Dean was staring at a blank wall. 

The thing is, while Dean was in a coma and even later when he had regressed, declarations of love and concern had been so straightforward. John had simply told Dean how he felt and because Dean wasn’t aware of him even being there, the words had flowed easily. Saying ‘I love you,’ or ‘I thought I had lost you’ or ‘I’m sorry,” were heartfelt then and they were no less so now but they were words that adult Dean had never heard his Dad utter. So if John started sprouting sentimental stuff then Dean would probably think his Dad was possessed again. So right now John had no way of telling Dean he cared without causing him more grief.

All the times John thought about this moment he never factored in Dean’s reactions to finding out what had gone on. Somehow it just seemed all too simple to say ‘we crashed, the demon is dead and we can start to live a normal life.’ Except now Dean didn’t react at all. No words, no emotion, no nothing. He simply stared off into the distance and John didn’t know whether his son was thinking about what he had been told or whether he was simply trying to understand what had been said.

“Dean?” John tried to get him to talk or at least react to the information.

“I’m okay,” Dean finally mumbled as he tried to sit up straighter in bed but the movement left him lightheaded and gasping for air.

Watching Dean struggle to breathe was too much for John. He accepted that Dean probably had some deep-seated fears from the rape and while he wanted to give Dean all the space in the world to get over it, he simply couldn’t sit back and watch Dean suffer like this. He just couldn’t let his son do it all on his own. 

_Dean might feel vulnerable right now but he needs help more than I need to worry if I scare him. He will just have to accept he’s gonna get help until he can manage on his own_ , thought John as he stood up to assist his son. 

“Actually kiddo you’re far from being okay. Let’s go over the facts once more: you have pneumonia, you’re running a fever because of it and as you have discovered, it doesn’t take much to make you gasp for breath. Your antibiotics would kill a cow and yet they are struggling to wipe out whatever microscopic bug caused this.” John held up the oxygen mask to show his son, “How about we put this back on?” He suggested before actually placing it on Dean’s face. “Right now you need this, so keep it there.”

Dean nodded wearily, grateful for the oxygen that began to fill his lungs. 

If ever there was a sign that Dean was overwhelmed by all that had happened to him, it was when he accepted the oxygen mask without an argument or even flinching. To John, Dean’s compliance was proof that his son understood that he was gravely ill and that he wasn’t about to fight his Dad over his treatment.

John also recognized shock when he saw it. He only had to look at his boy to know that Dean was in shock after hearing what had happened to him since that night at the cabin. John tried to imagine what it must feel like to ‘wake up’ and find that your new life had started without you. 

So John sat back down and left Dean to mull over what he had been told. Eventually Dean asked, “So I’m not going anywhere anytime soon?”

“No.”

“Are you?” he asked as he turned to face John and there it was laid out for all to see; Dean’s underlying fear that he was disposable.

“Dean, do you honestly think that I would just walk out and leave you here like this?”

_It wouldn’t be the first time,_ thought Dean as he fixed his eyes on John.

“Son despite what you obviously think of me; think again. I could have left you here two months ago but I didn’t. I suppose you could argue that I didn’t have to stay but the reality is I wanted to be here; still do. You are my son and getting you back on your feet is my first priority not some job three states away. The demon that killed your Mom is dead son. The demon that took you the other day is also gone and what we now know is that we are free of having to fight them…”

“Demons lie!” Dean pointed out.

“Yes they do but they lie so that they can gain an advantage. The servant demon gained nothing from telling us what he knew and then we sent him back to hell where he can’t bother us anymore. I think we can trust that we are free of further demon attacks from him and other demons. That means we can plan a future. We can work out what we want out of life and go for it. We can be a family with a real home and a life which doesn’t include one star motels and fast food chow.”

Dean seemed surprised and even a little confused by this revelation. “No hunting?”

“We don’t have to hunt. Maybe I could start up a garage again. It could be our family business,” John suggested as he tried to help Dean understand what ‘normal’ meant.

“But hunting is the family business,” Dean countered.

“Doesn’t have to be kiddo. We can go on hunting trips on weekends like other people take fishing trips.”

“People will die.”

John sighed. “Dean, people died before we became hunters and they died while we were hunters. Yes we saved people, a lot of people but we can’t save everyone and quite frankly I think my family has paid a hefty price for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I accept that bad stuff happens to good people but I can’t change that and it will go on happening whether we hunt or not. Random acts of violence will still occur and sometimes we will be able to stop them and sometimes no matter what we do people will get hurt or even die.”

“Look son, I’m not trying to justify why we should quit hunting; I just think it’s time to reassess our lives. The demon that killed your Mom is gone. I became a hunter to stop that thing from hurting anyone else especially my sons and look how well that turned out. Maybe back then I was driven by grief and revenge but I don’t have any excuse anymore to keep up the vendetta at the pace I did over the last twenty years. Your Mom, bless her soul, has been gone a long while now and the demon threat is gone too. I think we owe it to your Mom to try and salvage our lives and maybe work out a way to hunt and live a normal life too. All I ask is that you give it a try.”

“Dean, you’re gonna need a lot of physical therapy and like it or not you need to stay in one place for that. Bottom line is without the therapy you won’t get back to your old self anytime soon, if ever, so you could kiss the hunting goodbye anyway if you don’t do it. At least while you are confined to one place you can try out a new life and if you don’t like it then return to hunting full time. Your brother is considering college here and as I said I want a garage. Dean this is our chance to try and be a real family. What do you think? Wanna give it a try?”

Dean was overwhelmed by the choices and prospects but he was also ill and he was quickly reaching information overload. Only one thing was foremost in his mind right now, “How long do I have to stay here?” 

“Well let’s see firstly you need to get over the pneumonia, your anemia is still a problem and the doc doesn’t want to stress your heart too much especially since it has been so erratic. Just so you know the clot on the brain has left you a little…” John trailed off as he watched Dean gape at him in horror. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What happened to me again?” Dean quietly asked.

“Did I mention that sometimes you might forget stuff?”

“I don’t kno…know,” Dean stammered as he shivered from the fever.

“Let’s pull those covers up a bit,” John suggested before tucking the covers around Dean. “Look kiddo in spite of all that has happened to you, you will get well again. You just have to be patient. Give yourself some time to take it all in and it doesn’t matter that you can’t remember it all because your memory will improve as the weeks go by. Besides Sam and I will be here to help you, so you don’t have to do this alone okay?”

“Okay,” Dean agreed.

“Now to answer your question about how long you need to be here, well honestly I don’t know but it would be at least a few more weeks in hospital and followed by months of therapy in the hospital clinic. So we are staying put until you are strong enough to make your own choices about the future.”

Dean nodded and then asked, “Where are we exactly?”

“A hospital,” John reminded him.

“No, where are we, as in what town?”

“Oh sorry, you’re in the Bowie County Hospital, Columbia.”

“Long way from…from cabin. How did we get this…” but he didn’t have the breath to finish the sentence.

“Remember earlier I explained how we were airlifted here after the accident?”

There had been so much his Dad had told him and Dean struggled to remember it all. In the end he simply didn’t recall this piece of information. “Uhm…forgot,” he admitted.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you try and get some sleep. We can go over all this again later.”

John didn’t have to tell him twice as Dean’s eyes had closed before he even finished his sentence.

With a sigh of relief John sat back in the chair and watched the steady rise and fall of Dean’s chest. It had been a tumultuous few days and this rare moment of solitude was welcomed as he assured himself that Dean seemed to be improving albeit slowly. He was content to sit and listen to the ever present sounds of the medical equipment that recorded Dean’s life signs but then he remembered there was one last thing he needed to do before anyone turned off the lights and gave themselves a heart attack.

Wearily he rose from the chair, rummaged in his bag for a small plastic bowl and a vial of detergent and then trudged into the bathroom. There he filled the bowl with hot water, added the soap and grabbed a face cloth before heading back into Dean’s room. _Time to do a bit of house cleaning,_ thought John as he quickly set about washing away any trace of the devils traps painted around the room. “Thank god this stuff was water soluble,” he muttered as scrubbed at the remaining symbols. “Who’d have thought you could buy odorless, wash and wear paint?” John snickered quietly. 

Breathless from his exertion he returned to this seat to watch Dean but the day had caught up with him and he dozed off until a noise startled him awake. “What the...” he grumbled as he sat up straight in the chair.

“It’s alright John. I was just checking on Dean before I head home,” Dr Jessop whispered. “How was he when you spoke to him?”

“Uhm shocked, confused but overall he seemed to take it in,” John drawled as he tried to make his words coherent in his half-awake state.

“Well it’s to be expected considering what he’s been through.”

“He’ll be okay right?” John desperately needed to have some good news where Dean was concerned.

“Well he’s hung in there this long and he does seem to be responding to the antibiotics so yes, I’m quietly confident,” Jessop reassured the man. “Sam’s on his way up from the ER and the nurses will be in with a cot for you when he arrives. Once we have the boys settled I want you to have that sedative I prescribed. You need a good night’s sleep and trust me neither of these boys are going wake anytime soon, so you should sleep well.”

For the first time in over two decades John Winchester felt like he could let his guard down. The prospect of a real night’s sleep was intoxicating so he meekly nodded his head in agreement.

“Good. Well sit tight, Sam will be here in a few minutes and then sleep. I think you’ve earned it don’t you?”

“Yeah. Thanks doc,” he quietly replied as the doctor headed out of the room. John checked Dean once more before slumping back into the chair, “Yeah I’ve earned it. Doc you don’t know half of it…” he muttered to himself as he drifted back to sleep.

 

********************************************

**Chapter 24** \- _It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year._

 

“You awake?”

“If I say no will you leave me alone?” Dean groaned into the oxygen mask. He had been in that blissful world of barely awake and if left to it he could’ve easily dropped back to sleep except now he was dragged to consciousness by a familiar voice. 

Dean felt better; not exactly fighting fit but a little better than he did the last time he was awake. He certainly had a little more clarity of mind thanks to a good sleep. He recalled the conversation he had had with his Dad in the middle of the night and he remembered what he had been told…or at least he thought he did. Anyway he felt slightly stronger despite being pulled from his reverie. 

He turned his head in the direction of the speaker and slowly opened his eyes. The man on the opposite bed was dressed in an old t-shirt and sleep pants. He was lying on his side, one hand supporting his head while an IV drip was attached to the other. 

“Morning!” The man stated conversationally as soon as he saw Dean looking at him. “I was worried that you might end up sleeping the day away.” 

_Sam!_ The last few days had been a blur to Dean but now his eyes were wide open and seeing Sam made everything alright. Admittedly he looked a little worse for wear but otherwise he was the same old Sam that Dean remembered from…well from before. Unfortunately for Dean it also seemed that Sam was still very much a morning person who liked everyone to share in the joy of dawn’s early light.

“The things you see when you don’t have a gun,” Dean grumbled as he lifted the mask off his face.

“What?” 

Sam had been woken by the light that filtered through the window and into the room. He had tried to go back to sleep but in the end he decided to lay there and enjoy the fact that Dean was still with them and hopefully getting on top of this latest setback.

“Hey!” Dean replied not bothering to answer Sam’s question. “So, what ya doing?” 

Sam shrugged, “Just watching you sleep.” 

Dean’s brow furrowed, “Dude, that’s creepy.”

“Whatever.” Sam lazily replied. “So yeah, Merry Christmas.” 

Sam had never been one to celebrate Christmas. It was supposed to be a time when family came together but invariably their Dad left the boys alone in some rat infested motel on the highway to hell. However, despite his own misgivings about how his family failed to share the day, he was more than aware that Dean enjoyed this time of year with a delight that defied his age and his fractured childhood. 

“It’s Christmas?” Dean was mentally scratching his head. He was sure when he went to sleep it had been the day before Christmas Eve.

“All day,” Sam answered with a cheeky grin. 

Dean pursed his lips in confusion, “You sure?”

“That’s what my watch says,” Sam replied categorically as he checked the date. “We must’ve slept through Christmas Eve,” he mused as he wondered what had been put in his IV to ensure he slept for almost thirty hours. 

“Wow,” Dean replied as he realized that he had lost yet another day since that night at the cabin. 

Dean looked around the room. He noted a small artificial Christmas tree in one corner which was adorned with a few tasteful decorations. His face broke into a wide grin when he saw a stack of gifts stowed under the tree. “For us?” he asked hopefully, a childlike enthusiasm coloring his voice.

“Don’t know. They weren’t there two days ago,” Sam informed Dean. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, eased himself onto his feet and took a few cautious steps using the IV pole to steady himself, before walking over to inspect the tree and its collection of surprises. 

“Who are they for?” Dean asked as he tried raising himself up on his elbows up to see what Sam was doing.

“Us.”

“Yeah? Awesome” Dean replied excitedly. “Who from?”

“Santa Claus,” Sam stated as he read one of the gift cards.

“Fine smartass…”

“Hey just stating the facts. Don’t believe me, then check them out yourself…” The words were no sooner out of Sam’s mouth when he whirled around saying, “I didn’t mean it. Don’t you dare get out of that bed!”

“Whoa. Chill,” Dean huffed as he gave up trying to sit up and flopped back down on the bed exhausted.

“You want some help?” Sam offered seeing Dean’s plight.

Dean had given up hope of being able to sit up at all. It was simply too much hard work and hell would freeze over before he would ask for help let alone admit that he needed it. “No I can manage,” he grumbled even though he made no effort to move.

“Cut the crap Dean,” Sam snapped. “Just let people help you occasionally; it’s not gonna hurt you any.” He pushed a button on the bed controls which raised the back of the bed and eased Dean into a sitting position. “I’ll leave this where you can reach it. Just push this button…”

“Dude I know how to use these things,” Dean grumbled as he grabbed the controller from Sam. Changing subjects he asked, “So where’s Dad?”

“No idea.”

Dean seemed to deflate a little, “Some things don’t change obviously,” he mumbled.

Seeing the disappointment on his brother’s face was too much for Sam. “Hey look, Dad’s probably gone to get a coffee,” Sam happily explained. “He wouldn’t just leave without saying something.”

Dean looked at Sam and arched an eyebrow in surprise, “Since when did you become all pro-Dad?”

“Since I watched him sit by your bed day and night for two months,” Sam snapped. While he had his own issues with their father, overall Sam had to admit that these last few months John had become the dad the boys had always wanted. He was a loving, devoted and caring father and Sam sometimes couldn’t stifle the hurt that it took Dean almost dying for their Dad to be a ‘good’ father.

Dean turned away from Sam and stared at the Christmas tree. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He really hated it that his world had changed and he didn’t get the memo. He had always been the peacemaker between his Dad and brother and now they were what? Best buds? Dean felt his world tilt and he wondered whether he was dreaming and that this was actually all just a bad dream.

“Dean about that night…”

Unfortunately it wasn’t just a dream it was a nightmare and it seemed there was no escaping it. “Let it go Sammy. It’s over. Shit happens,” he wearily cut Sam off before the conversation degenerated into a chick flick moment of monumental proportions. He couldn’t face this discussion; he couldn’t face it with his Dad the other night and he couldn’t face it with Sam now. Bad enough that it happened at all but for Sam to have seen it…well that was gonna take a lot to get over and he wasn’t ready by a long shot to even contemplate how he felt about everything. Besides it was Christmas Day and he wanted to be happy. “So when can we open the presents?” He asked trying to deflect attention away from touchy subjects but the smile he plastered on his face never reached his eyes.

Sam sighed; he recognized all too well Dean’s attempt to avoid the situation. _Fine have it your way but we will talk about this later; we have to if either of us are going to move past it._

“You have to wait for Dad but if you’re good I can buzz the nurse and see if we can have a cup of coffee while we wait?”

Dean considered the suggestion, “Can I have something to eat too? I’m starving.” 

“Uhm I don’t know. Why don’t we check with the staff?” Sam picked his bed control. “I’ll buzz and find out.

“No I’m the oldest I’ll do it,” Dean said excitedly as he picked up his own controller and pushed the button.

*****************************

“Everyone these are my sons, boys meet today’s staff,” John announced as he stood in the doorway of Dean’s room, coffee in hand and a patent ‘which one of you screwed up’ look on his face.

The group waved to the two patients and then John casually ushered the code blue team and half the ward nurses out the door with an apologetic, “Thank you for your swift response and Merry Christmas everyone.”

The horde of people muttered ‘Merry Christmas’ in reply as they filed out of the room, relieved that they did not have to deal with another Winchester crisis, especially on Christmas Day.

Once they were alone, John fixed his sons with a glare that Dean knew all too well. “It’s six in the morning. I left you alone for thirty minutes while I grabbed a coffee and in that time you two supposedly bed-ridden idiots managed to bring the house down and caused the entire ward to go to red alert. So…” He growled, “…who pushed the button?” 

The boys looked at each other and Dean shrugged, “Ah, that would be me.”

“You?” John looked surprised. 

“Me!” Dean declared.

John cocked his head to the side as he weighed up whether his eldest son was indeed telling the truth. “If you’re covering for your brother…”

“Aw come on…” Sam cried as he threw his hands into the air in frustration.

“Enough,” John silenced Sam’s protest, “It wouldn’t be the first time son and Dean has been way too sick to do anything until today it seems.”

Sam bristled at the accusation that he was letting his brother take the fall for this one and while Dean was still obviously quite ill, Sam wasn’t exactly feeling on top of the world either. Besides it wasn’t his fault that Dean felt a little better and took charge of things the way he always did before everything went crazy. 

As for Dean well this was familiar territory to him. He quickly cut off further argument as he happily stepped back into the old role of diffusing family blow ups before they got out of hand. “Sam’s not to blame,” Dean stressed to his Dad. “I must have pushed the wrong button. I think I mistook the patient alarm button for the nurse call button. Sam tried to stop me but I pushed it before he could…look it was an accident.”

John thought for a moment, looked at Sam and then without missing a beat turned to Dean, “You sound better. How do you feel?” he asked, pleased to see the old Dean after so long.

The change in conversation threw Dean as he stumbled over his answer, “Uhm good I think, strong. Head is clearer than…ah…well…than before. So yeah I should be on my feet in a few days,” Dean assured John although the disjointed reply undermined his attempt to convince his Dad that he was well on the road to recovery.

“Son do you remember what I told you?”

Dean thought about it for a moment, nodded slowly and replied confidently, “Prior preparation prevents piss poor performance.”

John desperately tried to stifle a laugh, “No what I told you about your recovery.”

“Oh right…so which part exactly?” Dean asked as he desperately tried to dodge the fact that he wasn’t sure what his Dad was talking about.

“The part where I said you would be here in the hospital for a few more weeks and after that you would need months of physical therapy.”

“Right. Yeah…I remember but I do feel okay, sort of. Can I have something to eat?” He was really hungry and he felt like he hadn’t eaten in ages. Besides he was sure that once he had a full stomach everything else would fall into place.

“Why don’t I check with the staff about that but before I do; Merry Christmas boys.” John said, broad smile lighting up his weathered face.

Dean and Sam were surprised by the sudden change in their Dad’s mood. “Merry Christmas,” they automatically answered, although their words lacked genuine sentiment. 

John understood their confusion after all the Winchesters were more likely to hunt Santa Claus than indulge in Christmas cheer and trade gifts. It was simply the Winchester way and since Mary died John could barely remember a Christmas that didn’t entail hunting, crappy motels and a belly full of booze…though one year he did make an effort by placing a wreath made from beer cans on the door…

“Dad?” Sam called concerned by John’s sudden silence.

John jolted back to the present, “Sorry just thinking.” _I sure have some ground to make up to these boys,_ “So, it’s Christmas.”

“Yeah,” said Sam.

“Christmas,” agreed Dean.

“You two were out of it yesterday but a few folks dropped by to see how you were both doing.”

“Jake?” Dean asked expectantly.

John was surprised by Dean’s question, “Actually he did. You remember him huh?” 

Dean didn’t understand why everyone kept asking him that. “The firefighter right?” He asked concerned that _maybe he actually_ had the wrong person. “He pulled me out the fire.” 

Sam cringed at the mere mention of the man.

John shot Sam a look that said ‘stow it,’ before his youngest son burst into a tirade about Jake and how he had wormed his way into their lives. John knew it was a jealousy thing with Sam and it made sense. Sam had missed Dean these past weeks and now that he was back with them Sam suddenly had to share his brother with a stranger and Sam had never had to vie for Dean’s attentions before. It wasn’t that Sam didn’t like the man; it was just that they were a family, a dysfunctional one admittedly but a family nonetheless and Jake wasn’t part of it. 

Sam pouted at the silent rebuke but held his tongue.

“You remember the fire?” John asked.

“…and the snow,” Dean recalled. “I remember lying in the snow and some guy whacked me with a pistol,” 

“That was the Yellow-Eyed Demon’s servant,” Sam informed him. 

“That the one we ganked the other day?” Dean had thought it was the same guy but the different meat suit had confused him a little. 

John nodded, “One and the same. Seems he was after a little revenge for us taking out his Master. You were the easiest target…” 

“I’m so sorry Dean,” Sam blurted out.

Dean looked surprised by Sam’s outburst. “Sammy easy man, it’s not your fault…”

“Yes it was. I left you Dean and he took you and see what happened? Dean this was all my fault just like the cabin…”

“Sam stop it.” Dean shouted. “Shit happens. Just let it go. I told you that already today. That thing chose me because I was the weakest link not because you left me alone. It was after me and whether you were there or not, it was determined to take me. Let’s just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it took advantage of that and I hate to think what might have happened if you had been there too. From what Dad has told me you guys weren’t looking over your shoulder for spirits, you were here hoping I pulled through. So I’m thankful it found me and not you unprepared. Because it took me we saved a lot of other people from being hurt and that’s what we do Sammy; we save people.”

“Dean it hurt you,” Sam started pacing with his IV in tow. “It took…”

John resisted the temptation to intervene because it was important for the boys to deal with it all in their own way. So he stayed quiet and let them have their say. 

“Just stop right there,” Dean wondered what part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it, just let it go’ that Sam didn’t understand. “You and I both know that demons make people do stuff that they would never normally do,” he briefly looked at his Dad who dropped his head to stare at his boots rather than face Dean. _Fantastic! Merry Christmas Dean. Let’s unwrap all the shit today now that you are strong enough to deal with this crap,_ he thought as he bitterly forged on, “Sammy it happened, it was a demon and it’s gone. Now let it go man; I have, okay! I’m alive and it isn’t and that’s the best darn outcome I could wish for as a hunter. I don’t blame you, so stop beatin’ yourself up over it, over any of it…please…”

Sam was overwhelmed by the raw emotion in Dean’s voice. He had carried the guilt over the whole thing for days, let alone the pain of seeing Dean raped months ago. Sam wanted to get it off his chest but he could see how drained Dean was looking and the man who almost jumped for joy when he saw presents under the tree was now drawn and breathless as he laid his head back and closed his eyes.

Sam stopped pacing and shuffled over to Dean’s bed. He lifted the oxygen mask and carefully placed it on his brother’s face. 

“You talk too much,” he told Dean but his voice cracked as he spoke. 

Dean smiled weakly and let the oxygen fill his lungs. Obviously he wasn’t as strong as he thought and the knowledge that maybe his Dad was right and that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon was true. He looked away from his family trying to reign in his emotions when he spotted a teddy bear dressed as a fireman sitting on the bedside table.

“Cool,” he murmured as he picked up the toy. “Whose bear?”

“Yours,” John told him. “Sam and I bought it for you when you first came here.”

“Really?” Dean struggled to remember the last time he had been given a gift. He smiled weakly as he carefully examined its little fireman’s outfit. “Needs a name,” he muttered to himself as he tried to stifle a yawn. The morning’s activities had proved too much for him. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep. “Fubar, that’ll do,” he drawled. _Fubar, just like my life, it’s all fubar,_ he vaguely thought. “Fubar the fireman bear…”

The last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep, the bear tucked in his arm, was the sound of some very unmanly giggles and his Dad’s whispered “glad to have you back with us son,” before sleep claimed him once more.

 

********************************************

**Chapter 25** \- _Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down._

 

Jake wandered into Dean’s room and dumped a stack of auto and men’s magazines on the table. “Picked up some light reading for you. You know, the usual stuff,” he informed the man who was staring blankly out the window. “So when do you get to leave here?” He asked as he tried to drag Dean into some form of conversation. However, there was no response to his question.

“John tells me the house is just about ready,” he remarked conversationally as he stood next to Dean.

Like the Winchesters, Jake had been amazed at the public outpouring of generosity for Dean after the story broke a few days before Christmas. Still sending in a get well card to the guy was one thing but donating a house was something else altogether. Jake hadn’t known the Winchesters very long, but it was obvious that they were private people and the gifts and media interest were things that they were not comfortable with. Jake had been there when John tried to decline the house but the man who donated it had said it was his way of giving something back, that he had done it tough in bygone years and he knew how difficult life was when you had nothing. He told John he was building plenty of them and he could easily afford to hand one over to a family who didn’t seem to be able to cut a break. Jake figured that had struck a chord with John because he finally agreed to accept all the gifts, including the house, on Dean’s behalf. Lord knows Dean needed a stable and clean environment to recover in and his days were numbered here at the hospital.

Since then John and Sam had moved out of the flea ridden motel they had been living in and were currently staying with Jake while the house was being completed. Jake had inherited his mother’s place when she passed on a few years back and while it was a modest home it had enough room to accommodate a couple of extra bodies for a few months. His offer for them to move in was initially met with resistance but in the end the prospect of clean sheets and home cooked food won out and since then John, Sam and Jake had cohabitated reasonably successfully. It hadn’t been easy learning to live together. Jake was used to being on his own and the Winchesters were solitary people as well but they all managed to forge a reasonable routine despite their individual predilections. 

Even Sam seemed to have overcome his dislike of Jake. Jake hadn’t been too sure how Sam would cope with the new living arrangements but he was pleasantly surprised by how agreeable a house guest Sam had turned out to be. It wasn’t like the younger Winchester suddenly changed towards him it was more that Sam, once he adjusted to a ‘normal’ life, relaxed into it and by default was less hostile to Jake. Even better was that, as Dean continued to improve health wise, Sam seemed to become all the more amiable. So from Jake’s point of view the cold war wasn’t quite over yet but it was decidedly less chilly now than it had been when he first met the man.

Jake liked Sam; he respected his loyalty to his family and admired his tenacious if somewhat headstrong protection of Dean. He knew the brothers were tight and he never wanted to or intended to come between them. Likewise he had seen first-hand just how devoted John was to his sons. Despite having reared them unconventionally, he appeared invested in their health and wellbeing. That said however, Jake also knew that on the night he rescued Dean from the fire, the man was genuinely afraid of his family and that still bothered the firefighter no end, because for the life of him he couldn’t work out why. 

Every time Jake tried to make an excuse for Dean’s fear that night, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened between these men, something really bad. Something that was greater than having been kidnapped and abused by a demon but no amount of reasons or excuses seemed to cover the fact that Dean did not want to be left alone with the other two. Maybe it was because Dean thought _they_ were demons, maybe he was still a kid; they said he was like a five year old when he went missing. Maybe he thought he would be in trouble for “running away”…who knows, but the look in his eyes, the pleading for Jake not to leave him; it bordered on terror. It was a fear so great that Dean preferred to trust a complete stranger than to be left in the hands of his family and yet everything Jake has seen of the Winchesters since that night tells him that they are good people; quirky and a little out there at times, but they are honorable men. Therefore his offer for John and Sam to move in for a while was not altogether altruistic. There was definitely a touch of ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ to it and while Jake didn’t see John and Sam as enemies he firmly believed he owed it to Dean to at least try and understand the family dynamics and learn more of their past. 

Jake had dedicated his life to helping people and to that end he vowed to be there for Dean, if he still needed him. Every time he thought about that night he was amazed that he didn’t just turn and run away. The scenario was so bizarre and otherworldly. Unlike the Winchesters, Jake hadn’t lived his life in the shadows and consequently he felt out of his depth; but saving Dean, that was his territory and he could no more have left Dean to die than any other person he had rescued from countless burning buildings. Besides at the time only he and Dean knew what went on that night, so how could he just walk away and pretend none of it had happened? So he took on the role of friend and protector until Dean could fend for himself or told him to go away…at least that’s what Jake told himself. Besides it’s not like he had much else to do really. His own life was filled with work, a few beers with his friends and living a very mundane existence that was punctuated by dramatic fires and the occasional demon encounter, although the latter was a recent variation. Yep the Winchesters had spiced up his life considerably and while Jake had no intention of becoming a hunter, his eyes were opened to a world he thought only existed in fairy tales and horror movies. 

So Jake stayed around Dean because he couldn’t in all honesty walk away without being one hundred percent sure that Dean was going to be okay; which was why he was once again standing in Dean’s room making idle conversation while his new friend watched the snow fall.

“Sam said you guys haven’t lived in a house for years,” mused Jake wondering what it would be like to live on the road as the Winchesters had done.

Still Dean said nothing. Not a word; not even a hint that he was listening let alone aware that Jake was talking to him and now it started to grate.

“You know, on my way here I saw four red and blue penguins tap dancing in the parking lot?”

Dean continued to stare off into the distance.

Jake had had enough. He closed the blinds and stood in front of Dean and gripped the arms of the man’s chair. “Seriously what the fuck is going on in your head?”

Dean seemed to suddenly be aware of the man looming over him and shrunk back in the chair as Jake closed in on his personal space. “Wha…what’s your problem,” he snapped.

Jake backed off a little seeing Dean’s reaction, “Oh I don’t know maybe just that I’m talking and you’re not listening.”

Dean did a double take and replied, “Well I’m sorry sweetheart but since we’re not married I didn’t think it was a problem if I did my own thing.” While he was angry that Jake challenged him for not listening, he was extremely pleased with himself for actually saying a whole sentence without stuttering. All too often lately what he thought and said were two different things as his mouth and brain didn’t always communicate properly.

“Cute. Very cute, but the fact is dude you didn’t even know I was here.”

Dean bristled, “I was busy…”

Jake stood up straight and folded his arms across his chest, “Yeah real busy. You were counting snowflakes. I see that now,” he stated evenly. “I don’t know how I missed that you’re that type of guy. I guess you like kissing in the rain and watching chick flicks with a bowl of double choc ice cream too. Yes I see it now Dean you are really in touch with your feelings…”

“Back off!” Dean warned Jake. He was in no mood for this sort of crap.

“Make me!” Jake replied equally determined to stand his ground.

Dean seemed to think about it then caved. It simply took far too much energy to fight. Besides he really didn’t care what Jake or anyone else said or did at the moment because his life was like a jigsaw puzzle that had been thrown into the air and the pieces landed all mixed up and now he was trying to sort out all the pieces again. In other words he had no idea who he was anymore, where he was going or where he fitted in. Everything had changed and he hadn’t been awake to see it happen and now he was playing catch up. It was all too hard, so he simply sat in sullen silence and wished he was somewhere other than here and he especially wanted the memories that played in his brain on some sort of loop to stop because they were making him crazy. No Dean was too tired to care about anything so he simply sighed and looked anywhere except at Jake.

Jake saw the capitulation and he didn’t like it one bit. The Dean he had found in that warehouse had been a fighter but this Dean was a quitter and that was something Jake couldn’t abide.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not getting let off that easily. You’ve got stuff on your mind I get that, but shutting out everyone is not emotionally healthy,” Jake stated in all seriousness.

“Well thank you Dr Phil.”

“Hey daytime TV is enlightening, besides I have to do something to while away the hours between bouts of saving the world pal,” stated Jake with a cheeky grin. “Anyway back to your problems. Where’s that guy that fought a demon, escaped a fire naked and survived months in hospital? Where’s that guy gone?”

Dean raised an eyebrow; the answer was painfully obvious if Jake had just thought about it for a minute.

Jake got the message loud and clear. “Okay, okay I get it, but what’s wrong with you besides being stuck in hospital for three months, being kidnapped, attacked by a demon and having a series of life threatening health problems. I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “you’re life seems pretty good otherwise really”.

A genuine smile lit Dean’s face and Jake happily returned one.

Seeing an opportunity to break through Dean’s walls Jake said, “Dude talk to me.” 

Dean shrugged, “About…no…nothing to talk,” he sighed frustrated at his inability to say the words correctly. He tried again this time the words came in a rush, “Nothing to talk about,” he took a deep breath and continued. “You know what happened and I’m just trying to catch up on everything that’s been going on since the accident. No big deal.” 

It was physically hard for Dean to talk sometimes. The words just came out mixed up. Dr Jessop said it was because of the coma and the clot on the brain but sometimes it was easier to say nothing and then he didn’t have to be reminded that he wasn’t the man he used to be. Besides Dean was hardly a talker, well not about his feelings anyway. The lessons of a lifetime did not include bearing your soul; that was definitely something Dad hadn’t taught or encouraged. The fact is, soul searching and breast beating is not who he is and after all that had happened he wasn’t about to go all chick flick now, not to Jake or anyone else. What happened at the cabin was…well he didn’t even have words to express how he felt about it but what he did know was that he would never reveal what went down that night. That was a secret he and his family had to carry alone. Besides Jake was the first real friend he had ever had, although he did wonder sometimes why the guy kept coming back; but Jake never asked Dean for anything and that was something Dean wasn’t used to. Most people had their own agenda and for Dean it was simply a means to an end, be it in hunting or life but Jake seemed different and Dean wasn’t about to jeopardize the first real friendship he had ever had by talking about demon rape and accidental incest. What happened at the cabin had to stay at the cabin and that was that. He just needed to learn to cope with it although Dean had to admit he wasn’t doing that very well at the moment.

Jake knew it was a cop out on Dean’s part but if the guy didn’t want to talk then he wouldn’t force the issue, but he felt he needed to at least address the issue in passing. “Look I don’t care how mixed up the words are okay. That’s nothing. I’ve seen you naked and man, now that’s the stuff of nightmares.”

“Competition…for you…” stated Dean cheekily.

“What we’re comparing sizes now?” Jake asked as he suddenly started searching around the bed.

Dean was confused but in the end said, “Okay I’ll bite? What’re you doing?”

“Looking for a ruler. I was sure you’d have one next to the bed.”

Dean laughed; a heartfelt laugh. “Tell me?” Dean asked after a while. “How come you’re still here kicking my ass into gear?”

“Oh I don’t know sunshine. It’s a mighty fine ass,” Jake teased with a wink.

Dean blushed and looked away as the memory of the night at the warehouse flashed by. God he hated his life and luck sometimes.

Jake realized what he had said and quickly changed tack. “Dude I’m here because you need someone to tell you to get up and get moving. I am your very own bona fide friend with too much time on his hands and a minor fascination with your chosen occupation.”

Dean smiled. “Seriously…” Dean said as he stared at the fireman. Dean needed to know why he mattered to this guy because all his life he never felt like he mattered to anyone at all…except his Mom but she had been gone a long while now.

Jake sighed. It was crunch time. Dean had opened the conversation and this was Jake’s chance to ask and answer some hard questions. He just needed to tread lightly. “I take it that’s not a question,” he stated as he grabbed a chair and turned it around so he could lean his arms on the backrest. “Okay. Well. That night at the warehouse…” he paused, unsure of where to actually begin. 

Dean nodded. He remembered that night all too well.

“Yeah, well I guess we both remember that night. You know I’d never seen anything like that before.”

Dean raised an eyebrow questioning the statement.

“Okay smartass. Yes I’ve seen plenty of fires but I’ve never seen a demon before. Never saw a guy pinned to the ceiling either and I’ve definitely never seen anyone, jump out of a fourth story window and survive, let alone get up and run away …and then there was you…”

Dean’s cheeks reddened at the memory but held his gaze wanting to know what Jake was going to say. 

“And you…well that was something you don’t see every day.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Man I can’t even imagine what you had gone through before I arrived but I heard what he said to you and I saw you try to fight back. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I’ve seen and from what your family have told me, you are quite a tough guy. So to have no control over the situation must have rocked you to the core but you know what else I saw that night?”

Dean shook his head. He had no idea where this conversation was going so he just stayed mute and waited to see what else Jake had to say.

“I saw a guy take control of his situation. Seriously dude after all that you had been through you still found the strength to warn me that something was going to go wrong when that guy bailed and you managed to push me out the way of the falling ceiling. Thing is I could say if you hadn’t done that then we both would have died in the fire but you know what? I figure if I had been knocked out you would have still crawled to that window and called for help. I might have rescued you that night but I have no doubt that you would have rescued me if you had too. You see most people I meet under those circumstances…a fire…well they are scared shitless. Hell some of those fires scare me too but I know my stuff and I can take charge even if they are hysterical but no way in hell would I ever think they could save me if the tables were turned. But you’re different. I know you were scared because you were confused and all, but honestly I wouldn’t hesitate to put my life in your hands. What was so amazing that night though was despite everything you went through you still willingly put your life in my hands especially back at the hospital. Gutsy move man.”

Dean was stunned by what Jake was saying. Very few people had ever praised him and Dean wasn’t sure how to take it all.

Jake smiled and continued while he had the floor, “So to answer your question as to why I’m still here… I wasn’t sure what I had seen that night but I knew I had to help you. So when you asked me to stay I was not about to leave you to whatever it was that had attacked you. So I decided to hang around in case it came back; of course I didn’t know what it was but since you weren’t in a fit state to fight it off then I was ready to step up to the plate and deal with it if I had too. You made that decision so much easier though when you insisted that I stay with you. But when John and Sam appeared at the hospital and you acted the way you did that sort of confused me; I hadn’t planned on you being scared of your family. Mind telling me why?”

Dean paled. He thought this conversation was all about friendship. He never dreamt it would end up back at the cabin.

Jake could tell he had hit a nerve. “Don’t get me wrong, I like you, so being around here is no hardship. You’re the sort of guy I could imagine hanging with at a bar, having a few beers, shooting some pool…that sort of thing. The thing that gets me though is why a guy so in control of his life can be afraid of his own family. They seem like good people and you seem to enjoy them being around so I am struggling to work out what was wrong that night in the hospital when you didn’t want to be left with them. It worries me…uhm…” The conversation had to come to a head and Jake just had to know why Dean had been afraid, so he looked Dean squarely in the eye and asked, “Dean did Sam or John do something to you? Something before I met you? They hurt you somehow? Is that why you’re afraid of them? I can help you. You don’t have to play happy families around me. You were shit scared that night Dean; are you still afraid of them? ‘Cause if you are, I’ll get the police to keep them away. You don’t have to do this alone…”

“NO!” Dean shouted in a horror. “Wrong…you…you’re…wrong…” Dean felt the panic rising because his brain and mouth were working in opposition to each other and he was terrified he would say the wrong thing. “They’re my family…the three of us…that’s all we have. And that’s all I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holdin’ it together, but without Sam and Dad…” he trailed off too exhausted to say anything more.

It had taken all Dean’s will power to say the words correctly but they were the same words he’d said just a few short months ago to Sam after Dad had gone to face demon Meg with the fake Colt. It was true then and true now, they were stronger together but that didn’t mean what happened at the cabin could just be pushed aside. The rape had done a major number on him, but as far as Dean was concerned the demon fucked them all that night and now they needed to stick together as a family to get through it. Of course they would never discuss it, but simply being there for each other went a long way to healing the rifts.

Jake pursed his lips and nodded, “Okay. You guys are close. I get it. But what was wrong that night at the hospital? What spooked you so much that you wanted me, a stranger, rather than John or Sam?”

“I don’t do heart to hearts,” Dean explained, unwilling to answer the question.

“I kind of worked that out already,” replied Jake.

Dean weighed up his options, he could cut Jake loose and never see the guy again but it occurred to Dean that he would miss Jake if he stopped coming around. _This must be what having a friend is like_ , he thought as he mulled over the unfamiliar concept. So he decided to tell him part of what went on at the cabin which would go a long way to explaining why he was so worried when he first saw his family after the warehouse incident. Dean felt he owed Jake some sort of explanation particularly since he had become an unintentional participant in the Winchester family drama. 

However, before Dean could put Jake at ease over the whole situation he needed to sort out a few things for himself first. So he mentally began ticking off some questions and answers. Was he afraid of his family now? Not in the least. Did his Dad spook him sometimes? Absolutely! Dean’s brain simply wasn’t quick enough at the moment to stop the initial trepidation or minute shudder when his father touched him but did he think his father would hurt him again? Not in a million years. So now that he had a broad outline of his own thoughts on the matter he decided that he needed to tell Jake what was going on in his head regards that night without actually telling Jake what had happened to make him afraid in the first place.

“Okay, you w-want to know?”

Jake nodded.

“Can’t guarantee wrong…can’t guarantee I won’t get mixed up,” he explained hoping that he really could do this quickly and without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Pity,” grumbled Dean.

Jake just smiled. “I’m all ears.”

Dean took a deep breath and proceeded to talk slowly and deliberately, “We’re hunters. We’ve been hunting the thing that killed my Mom since I was a kid. We didn’t know what it was until last year, turned out that it was a demon; we called it the Yellow-Eyed Demon for obvious reasons. Dad kept Sam and me away at first; sent us on other hunts, you know, ghosts, Hook Man, Bloody Mary, that sort of stuff. He didn’t want us getting hurt if we were with him. He had a gun, a Colt…”

“Right your Dad mentioned the gun when we were trying to work out how to capture that thing,” Jake interjected excitedly. 

Dean vaguely remembered his Dad telling Jake about the demon but he must have dozed off by the time Colt was mentioned. He was mildly surprised that his father had told a civilian so much information but lately everything in his world was upside down, so in some respects it wasn’t as big a shock as it could have been. “Yeah it…the gun, is special…kills anything. Dad was going to kill the demon with it. The demons said the gun was like a declaration of war. They killed…started killing our friends. Said they would stop if we traded the Colt. Dad took a fake gun to trade and met with the Demon’s children, while Sam and I hunted Yellow-Eyes. We knew where he would hit next but he escaped and Dad got caught…possessed. We rescued him…” Dean looked at his hands trying not to let his emotions take over. _Stick to the facts Dean,_ he told himself. 

“At first we didn’t know he was possessed, so we hid out in a backwoods cabin. After a while I worked out he wasn’t my Dad but it was too late. I told Sam that it was the demon and we had the gun…I could have killed it but it would have meant killing Dad and…I couldn’t do it.” He sighed sadly, “The demon took control. Had Sam and I pinned against a wall.” Dean looked up at Jake, “demons have this power. They can move you with a thought. Like the guy you saw on the ceiling. You can’t escape. Anyway, the demon was pissed at me because I had killed its kids and…it carved me up. Like claws tearing you from the inside out. I almost bled out at the cabin. Anyway Dad managed to regain some control of his mind and that meant the demon’s force weakened…Sam and I were free. The demon reared up again but Sam grabbed the gun…he…shot Dad in the leg. The demon escaped and left us alone, or so we thought. Sam put Dad and me in the car and was driving us to a hospital when…when the truck driven by the demon hit us. I was unconscious but Sam told me later that he killed it. You sort of know the rest. I was in a coma for a month and then awake but sort of out of it until the night we met.”

“So that night at the hospital you thought that John was possessed again?”

Dean nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t know…was almost two months later. So I wasn’t sure if demons had taken them both over.”

“No wonder you were freaked. Shit!” Jake exclaimed. “So why did you think I could help you? I didn’t know anything about demons. Still don’t really. You took a bit of a risk if it had come back.”

Dean shrugged. “You saw the demon at the warehouse and you didn’t run away. You were strong…coped under pressure…trusted you…still do…” he admitted tiredly.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“We don’t have to hug do we?”

Jake laughed, “Here I was thinking you were all girly counting snowflakes and now I find out you don’t even cuddle. My dreams are shattered,” he teased.

“You’ll survive,” replied Dean.

“And so will you,” Jake added happily.

 

********************************************

**Interlude 4** \- _Every solution to every problem is simple. It's the distance between the two where the mystery lies._

 

John sat in a far corner of the room while Dean attended his daily physical therapy session. Because they had almost lost Dean too many times recently John didn’t feel comfortable having his son out of sight for too long just yet; so he hovered nearby ready to step in if the need arose. He wished he could’ve helped Dean through this but he knew this was something Dean had to do by himself. Besides therapy was one of the few things that Dean had control over and having control was something that he had lacked for a while now. So John let his son enjoy the moment while he loitered in the background.

While Dean worked out, John had plenty of time to think about how things were going with his family and what the future held. He was pleased to see that Dean seemed to be coping well physically despite his recent traumas. In fact everyone who met Dean was amazed that he was even alive, considering the odds had been stacked against him. They praised his determination, encouraged his progress and applauded his successes. Dean had probably had more positive feedback in the last month from strangers than he’d had in a lifetime from his father and that thought made John wince as he realized just how bad a dad he had been to his boys over the years. Now he was trying to turn things around and he hoped that one day he and the boys would find common ground but he wasn’t going to push it; these things take a while. Like Dean learning to overcome his disabilities; John’s relationship with his sons would need nurturing, hard work and time. He simply needed to be patient.

John was pleased by Dean’s steady improvement although it was obvious the boy still had months of work ahead of him. Dean still stumbled over his words; it was like his brain knew what he wanted to say but all too often the words didn’t come or they were mixed up when they did. Walking was a big problem for him. His leg was weak, having been broken in the accident and then months of inactivity and now he walked with a limp but the doctors assured the Winchesters that with regular therapy his leg would be strong again. Dean also tired easily, which was to be expected, but he did sleep excessively. Often John would leave Dean for a minute or two and when he returned he’d find the man slumped over asleep in a chair. More frightening was when he’d fell asleep mid-sentence. The first time it happened John thought Dean had died but Dr Jessop assured him that while Dean was improving he still had a long way to go and that these events would become less and less as Dean grew stronger. In other words John needed to relax, because Dean was doing everything he was supposed to as a recuperating patient undergoing intensive rehabilitation.

John understood what Jessop was saying but it still scared the hell out of him. At least Dean’s seemingly endless health crises appeared to be behind him and now the focus was on getting him fit not just keeping him alive. However, what did concern John greatly were the emotional and psychological issues that he knew Dean wasn’t dealing with. 

Dean had never been a touchy feely guy; talking through personal problems was not high on his list of things to do. So while Dean happily soldiered on through his physical therapy sessions with minimal argument or fuss, his visits with the rape counselor were less successful. 

The counselor never shared what went on during his sessions with Dean but from the look on his face when the sessions were over, John guessed that Dean had politely but firmly stood his ground and refused to discuss any of it. The counselor had spoken to both John and Sam about how they were coping with things and it certainly gave John the opportunity to air his concerns for Dean. He told the man that he felt Dean would most likely bottle things up which was perfectly understandable under the circumstances but what he didn’t say was that there was no way for Dean to say what happened that night in the cabin without exposing the web of deceit that they had weaved to cover the event in the first place. So Dean either lived that lie in which case he wasn’t getting his true feelings off his chest or he told the truth; but the truth wasn’t an option either because there was no way Dean could tell the counselor that his father, who was possessed by a yellow-eyed demon at the time, raped him while his brother watched it while pinned to a wall by an invisible supernatural force. So from John’s perspective Dean was in an untenable position and his only choice was to clam up and hope that the counselor packed up and left him to deal with this in his own time and in his own way. Still the counselor stayed and his inevitable departure unfortunately seemed a long way off.

At one point the counselor felt it might be beneficial for John and Sam to talk one on one with Dean. He suggested they each tell him how they felt about the rape and assault. Apparently the counselor hoped that Dean might talk to his family if they opened up to him first and that in turn might open the door to more fruitful dialogue between Dean and the counselor in the future. The men agreed but they knew the plan was doomed from the beginning because hell would freeze over before Dean would discuss anything personal with them, _especially_ this. 

They weren’t wrong. The two men discussed how successful they had been after the event. It seemed that as they each tried to discuss what had happened Dean ended the conversation, although Sam made more progress than John. Dean stopped John as soon as he broached the subject by telling his Dad that there was nothing to discuss. He insisted that it wasn’t John’s fault, that demons do bad things and to forget it and move on. With that the whole topic was shut down. 

Sam at least managed to tell Dean he was sorry it had happened; how he wished he could have done something to stop it from happening and that he felt stupid for not realizing they had been set up by the demon in the first place. Dean agreed that they had been too easily fooled by the demon but then effectively finished the conversation by saying in war there is always innocent victims and unfortunately their Mom and Jessica were examples of good people being caught by bad things. He did make one tiny concession in his discussion with Sam by saying that to a lesser degree he was also collateral damage but then he reminded his brother that in their line of work sometimes things go wrong and this was one of those times. He simply stated that in their last hunt they had all made mistakes and paid the price for it and now it was time to move on and try not to fuck up again. 

So John and Sam told the counselor that they had had no luck talking with Dean. They explained that Dean was a determined young man who preferred to deal with his own problems and perhaps it was best that he let Dean deal with this in his own way, but the counselor kept trying. Eventually though he realized they were right and agreed that what Dean needed was time to heal physically before tackling his emotional wounds. However, the counselor stressed to John that Dean would eventually need to deal with things and maybe in time he would find a way to air the feelings he so stubbornly guarded but right now he wasn’t ready and pushing him would only create more problems. 

John also agreed. While he understood that Dean needed to get it off his chest, John honestly didn’t know what to do to help him through this. What he did know was that if they didn’t clear the air between the three of them then one day when they least expected it this would come back to bite them all on their collective asses. So he began to explore other options; at first glance they seemed very limited, considering the situation, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily.

So today while Dean worked through his leg exercises John sat in a quiet corner and mulled over the situation. He knew that while Dean was putting on a brave face, he was in fact deeply troubled by the whole thing. He regularly awoke from nightmares, he flinched every time John touched him, he sometimes couldn’t look Sam in the eye and he spent inordinate amounts of time when he thought he was alone staring off into the distance. Oddly enough though he seemed okay around Jake, despite the fact that Jake had seen what had happened to him at the warehouse. John wasn’t sure why Jake was so easily accepted but if Jake gave Dean a little peace of mind then John wasn’t about to step in and stop it. So while he wondered what had gone down between the two of them for Dean to accept the man so willingly he also knew Dean needed someone around him that he felt comfortable with and Jake was obviously that person. 

That aside, it was the times when John watched Dean candidly that he saw just how worn out and troubled the boy was; it was that look, that vacant stare that bothered John the most. He had seen it before on the faces of countless war veterans who were plagued by memories of what they had seen, what they had done and what they had suffered. Dean was a veteran of a nameless war fought in the shadows and the conventions of normal warfare didn’t apply; he was veteran who was now coping with post-traumatic stress syndrome and if left untreated it would eventually led to other problems and the last thing John wanted was to see Dean survive all of this, only to self-destruct years from now. No this needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later. 

John had always debriefed the boys after a job but he never talked them through their feelings and fears. It was all about learning from your mistakes and training to overcome your shortfalls. There was no room for concerns and worries. Those were the things that could get you killed or worse. Down through the years John had never felt the need to seek out help for his own problems and he seriously doubted his sons had either, they simply hadn’t been reared that way. Nor had he ever seen the point of dealing with issues arising out of fighting something that went bump in the night; besides who would believe him if he tried to discuss any of it anyhow? No the nightmares and other psychological difficulties which arose from a life lived fighting the things that most people thought were only in the movies were the occupational pitfalls of a dangerous job with minimal rewards and even less thanks. If people had seen half of what he and his family had seen, let alone endured what they had, then they would be most likely go crazy but the Winchesters were made of sterner stuff or so he thought up until that night in the cabin. Now although things had changed the reality was that if Dean needed help to get through this then maybe so did he and Sam. Maybe it was time to bare their souls too.

Of course the problem was how to say what was needed to be said. How did he get either of his sons to share their secrets when he had spent a lifetime telling them to bottle them up? Let’s face it, they were hardly going to have a deep and meaningful discussion over coffee and cake about the impact of incestuous rape under demonic possession and how best to overcome the emotional ramifications from the incident, let alone talk his abduction and assault by a crazy sub-demon. Hell the three of them couldn’t even discuss the weather without an argument and all attempts to bring up Dean’s situation had been canned so far. 

So while John tried to work out the best plan of action, Dean pretended to be all business as usual. In fact John began to wonder whether in fact his son honestly believed that if the family skeletons didn’t rattle, then they really could stay locked in the closet forever. Mind you in Dean’s current state of mind any rattling bones would be cause for a good old fashioned salt and burn. In other words Dean was a little trigger happy, his pleasant demeanor masking his inner turmoil.

It was only a matter of time before the cracks would begin to appear in Dean’s performance and John hoped that if he did fall to pieces then he would let his family help him; but to get to the point where Dean would turn to them, John needed to tell Dean about that night and that was the hard part. So John thought through his options from every angle just like he did when they had a job and in the end he knew two things for sure: firstly Dean and Sam were vastly different in how they dealt with things. Sam was a talker much to Dean’s disgust. Sam was way too chick flick for Dean’s tastes. However that had worked in John’s favor because it had allowed him and Sam to talk quite successfully since Dean first came to the hospital. Okay success was a matter of opinion but at least they talked and that was a good thing. They hadn’t resolved their issues, not by a long shot, but at least dialogue was an option and while it was baby steps at least John felt that he and Sam could nut things out if given enough time. Secondly John realized that there was no way he would be able to talk to Dean about anything too personal let alone what had happened to him. He had tried a few times now and the conversations had ended before they began. The problem was to be able to tell Dean what he felt, even if Dean didn’t reciprocate. He just needed Dean to listen and he knew that given time his son would respond. It might take years but John was prepared to fight for this to the grave if it meant restoring his relationship with Dean. So he finally worked out a way to tell Dean everything. He figured he may as well unpack the emotional baggage from the last twenty or so years, as well as deal with these latest problems: and so John set about finding the right time to let his son know what was in his head and his heart and top of the list was the hope that one day Dean might forgive him for what had happened on that terrible October night. So as Dean exercised his body, John dragged out his journal and began to exorcise his emotional demons.

 

**************************************************

**Chapter 26** \- _You don’t drown by falling into water; you drown by staying there._

 

By mid-February the weather was improving; spring was starting to assert its control and a sense of new life and hope filled the air. For the Winchesters this was also a time of renewal, of starting afresh and facing a brighter future because after three and a half interminably long months Dean was finally discharged from hospital and it seemed as if they could all finally move forward.

John and Sam had already begun to put down roots in their Columbia community. John had been working in a garage for a while now and Sam worked at a bookstore during the week and tended bar on weekends. He had enrolled and been accepted to the University of Missouri and would start classes in the fall, so he was eagerly saving as much as he could to cover his tuition fees. And Dean? Well he still had months of rehab ahead of him and while he was well enough to go ‘home’ he certainly wasn’t fit enough to be working but at his core he was hunter and so it seemed logical, at least to him, that once he was fully recovered he would return to that life. 

Dean faced two main hurdles before he could be considered fully recovered; one was his physical injuries and the other the psychological trauma. The physical problems were dealt with three times a week at the hospital rehabilitation center along with endless hours of exercises done at home. He walked with a limp, his energy levels plummeted quickly and frequently which left him weak and weary and when that happened his brain seemed to shut down and consequently he either became confused or stumbled over his words and occasionally he did both. These were the unwelcome side effects from his injuries, but Dean accepted that with a little time and a lot of therapy they would be fixed. 

However, he didn’t even try to deal with his emotional problems. From his perspective no amount of therapy could resolve those. Lord knows he had a bucket load of psychological issues prior to what happened at the cabin and now he had more. He just didn’t want to have to deal with any of it at the moment or ever if he could get away with it. He knew that wasn’t smart but one, it’s the way he had been raised to deal with the shitty stuff in life and two, there didn’t seem to be a way for him to off load his problems without having his Dad arrested for incest and rape and he and Sam committed to the local asylum for believing in ghosts and other evil beings; so he left his emotional issues alone. Unfortunately in this situation ‘out of sight out of mind’ wouldn’t fix the problem but right now that’s the way Dean wanted to play it. So he soldiered on the only way he knew how, by pouring all his energy into repairing his obvious problems while leaving the unseen ones to fester. 

Unfortunately while Dean wanted to be out there hunting to take his mind off other issues, the reality of his life was that his recovery was a slow going process and therefore all three Winchesters needed to be patient. However, being patient was not a genetic trait that one would attribute to the Winchesters, despite their ability to wait out anything when hunting. The three of them were more than capable of sitting still for endless hours, and sometimes even days, for whatever it was that they were tracking to show up but in everyday life they were an impatient bunch; always wanting something done yesterday and tomorrow was twenty-four hours too late. So when it came to Dean’s recovery the three men struggled to let nature take its course, even though rationally they knew there was no quick fix for Dean’s problems. This led to frustrations boiling over and inevitably arguments.

For Dean the minute he left the hospital he wanted to put all of it, the rape, the abduction and months of critical health issues, behind him. Unfortunately the second he stepped through the door of his new home he found himself confronted by a whole new set of concerns; all of which were complicated by his ongoing commitments at the hospital for medical check-ups and rehabilitation appointments. Worse still was that due to his limited mobility he was dependent on someone getting him to and from the hospital and being at home to assist him with the routine activities of daily life for a while at least. So despite being discharged from the hospital, Dean’s life was still firmly centered there and he was still dependent on everyone for almost everything. So essentially he had merely moved residence not circumstances and that meant, much to his annoyance that his life was not his own and right now he needed to be alone.

One of the many difficulties Dean faced when he came ‘home’ was that he barely remembered what having a home was like. The concept was unfamiliar to him. So while John and Sam rejoiced in having a permanent roof over their heads; Dean felt out of place and struggled to find a corner of their new abode that made him feel comfortable. It’s not that the house was inadequate; far from it in fact and Dean was awed that someone had so willingly given it to them. It was simply the concept of ‘home’ that troubled him. 

He remembered just a little of his life in Lawrence before the demon came but those memories were always associated with his Mom, not his Dad. His Mom had made him feel safe; she had tucked him into bed, told him the angels would look over him and he believed her. His Dad on the other hand had carted him across the country hunting things that do more than just go bump in the night, left him alone to mind Sam for hours and days at a time and he never visited the same place twice unless it was to ensure that some creature of the night was not rampaging again. So to suddenly inherit a house he had never seen before and to be told it was his forever was beyond his ability to understand, let alone turn the house into a home. To Dean this place was just like all the other houses, apartments and hotel rooms he had frequented in the past twenty or so years; they were somewhere to stow his gear until the next job came up.

One of the other monumental problems Dean faced when he came home was that the family business wasn’t. In other words they weren’t hunting anymore. It’s not that the evil things had packed up their toys and gone back to wherever they came from, it was that Sam and John had hung up their guns and the rock salt was ground down for use on food instead of being poured on windowsills to deter otherworldly visitors.

So naturally something had to give and a few days after coming ‘home’ the arguments began. The Winchesters had sat down to have their evening meal and suddenly Dean blurted out, “I don’t get it? Why aren’t we hunting anymore?”

John put down his fork, placed his arms on the table and took a long, steading breath, “Dean we’ve been over this. I think this family has lost enough through hunting. It’s time to live like normal people…”

Dean frowned; he was completely confused by his Dad’s response. “When have we ever been normal?” He asked.

“Before your mother died we were ordinary people Dean. I don’t see why we can’t go back to that.”

“You’re kidding right? Don’t you think we’ve seen too much to go back to being Ozzie and Harriet again? Come on Dad, this,” he waved a hand at their surroundings, “this isn’t us. We hunt things, we save people, that’s the family business. That’s what you drummed into us for years.”

“It _was_ the family business…”

“So we all just retire? Just like that, you turn your back on people who need us?”

“Dean, before we hit the road all those years ago there were others out there hunting and there’ll always be hunters but we’re not hunting full time ever again. We’ve given so much to that life…we’ve lost family, friends and clients. Did we make a difference? Yes, most of time. Well I’d like to think so anyway but has it changed anything overall? No! There’s always going to be things out there and yes occasionally I would like to go hunting but not the way we used to. Hunting shouldn’t run our lives and it certainly shouldn’t define who we are.”

“Fine but what’s the problem if I hunt? If you and Sam want to give it away then I guess that’s your choice. Why can’t I do what I want, it’s not like I haven’t hunted alone before.”

“Dean I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life…”

“That would be a first…” Dean muttered.

John let the insult pass this time. “Look son I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have concerns about you going it alone. Realistically I think it’s time you give it away too. You and your brother have given up so much to be hunters and while you might be good at it I think you should try this life, Sam certainly has. Why not give it a chance, you might actually like it.” 

“But what do I do?” Dean shouted. “If I stay what do I do to fill in my days? I’m not book smart, I can’t go to college like Sam and I don’t have skills like you. The only thing I was ever good at was hunting and now you want me to give it up because you got possessed and…” 

But Dean couldn’t say it. He couldn’t bring himself to point out the crux of all this which was that John was a micro-manager who didn’t understand sharing the load and who consequently made mistakes because he thought he knew better than anyone else alive. Dean knew beyond the shadow of doubt that he wouldn’t be suffering now if his Dad hadn’t gone out and got himself possessed; unfortunately that little fuck up resulted in Dean almost dying at the hands of the Yellow-Eyed demon and so they all had to face the consequences of that mistake. However, John was still trying to run everything with his ‘my way or the highway’ attitude and right now Dean preferred the highway option rather than end up a consequence of his Dad’s poor choices again. 

John was equally frustrated by the argument. He had hoped that they would easily make the transition into this new life. He knew Dean would struggle a little but he thought that eventually his eldest son would find his feet but now John realized that it just wasn’t going to be that easy. All he wanted to do was to protect Dean and he couldn’t see why Dean didn’t get that but instead of saying what was in his heart he lashed out. “You think that I’m proud about what happened that night. Why do you think I want out of that life? Look at what happened to you.”

Dean had long ago accepted that hunts sometimes went awry and to him what happened that night in the cabin was a classic example of just how badly they can go wrong. There was no denying that the rape was horrific and he couldn’t forget it but he was able to separate the act from the unwillingly, possessed offender. In other words he knew he was raped by a demon and that his father was merely the vessel the demon used. However that aside, he still had to come to terms with it and his way of doing that was to push it out of his mind but no-one would let him forget so he couldn’t move past it.

The last thing Dean wanted to do right now was talk about was the rape because there was so much more that needed addressing besides that one terrible event. Dean was tired and sore and he’d had enough. “I’m not discussing this,” he said with an air of finality.

“Really well you brought it up?” John snapped. “Look Dean…”

Sam had watched the whole scene with a sense of déjà vu. “Can we not do this?” He pleaded. “God the arguments have started already and Dean’s only been home a few days.”

“This is _not_ my home,” Dean yelled as he slammed his napkin on the table and stormed out the front door.

Sam sighed as he watched him go. _Better let him cool down first,_ he thought as he turned his attentions to John. “Nice one Dad. Way to go to make Dean feel better.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Saying it isn’t enough. You have to show it.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘Go ahead and hunt!’ Is that what you want him to do? Is it something you want as well? I never thought you embraced the life the way Dean did.”

“I didn’t Dad and no I don’t want Dean back out there on the road but right now he doesn’t know anything else so it’s natural for him to cling to the past; his whole life is what he had and what he’s lost. You just can’t tell him ‘everything’s changed and that we’ve moved on’ because I think he worked that one out all by himself, except he doesn’t know how to move forward. You and I have had months to talk over the future but Dean hasn’t been that lucky. Face it Dad, the minute you got possessed it was all downhill from there for Dean and nothing for him has ever been the same since. So he isn’t just going to take on this whole ‘Dad and apple pie’ life style because he doesn’t believe that it’s real, that’s its permanent.”

“You think I don’t know that getting possessed caused all of this? Look Sam I’m not sure how to fix things but I do know that I don’t want him planning on going back to hunting. I lost your mother to what’s out there and I’m damn well not going to lose you or Dean to that life as well.”

“Well you’re not exactly going about it the right way to change Dean’s mind,” Sam replied angrily as he stood up and went outside to talk to Dean.

*****************************************

When Sam first stepped outside and didn’t see Dean he had a moment of panic, after all his brother was hardly mobile but a cursory scan of the street told him exactly where Dean had gone. Sam found him about a block away from the house sitting on a park bench. He struck a solitary pose as he sat staring out across the field at nothing in particular on that chilly February evening.

“A bit cold to be out here at this time of year,” Sam commented as he sat down next to his brother. 

“You really want to talk about the weather Sam?”

“No,” Sam confessed.

“Look man I don’t need a babysitter,” Dean told him. “I’m not going anywhere else. It took me all my energy to get here.” 

The mere fact that Dean admitted that he was struggling physically was enough to make Sam worried about his brother because Dean has never acknowledged any weakness. It was a chink in his armor and Sam wondered whether it could be fixed or one day it would be rent apart and they would all be hurt by it.

“Dean Dad’s worried about you…us…he’s trying to do what he thinks is right.”

“Now that’s funny. He worries now when we’re adults and yet when we were kids he wasn’t there for us. We needed him then, not now. I don’t know about you Sammy but I’m old enough to make up my own mind about what I do with my life.”

Sam tried a more conciliatory approach, “Dad feels responsible for what happened…”

Dean, however, was in no mood for peacemaking or discussing _that_ topic, “And so he should,” he replied angrily. “We asked him not to go and meet Meg but he always was a stubborn bastard and look what happened.”

“I really don’t think he expected to survive the encounter,” Sam mused.

“Maybe so, but as we well know there’s worse things than dying.”

Sam saw that as an ‘in’ to talk about the whole cabin cluster fuck. “Dean that night…”

Dean shook his head, “Sam I don’t want to hear it. I’ve told you before, hunts don’t always work out. I don’t see how rehashing the whole event will change the outcome.”

“Dean talking about these things is healthy.”

“Maybe for you but I made my peace with what happened. Dad was possessed. He didn’t hurt me the Yellow-Eyed Demon did. So can we let it go, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam reluctantly agreed. The reality was that it wasn’t okay but there was nothing he could do about it. He really believed that Dean needed to get it off his chest so he vowed to keep trying every few weeks to see if Dean felt more like talking. However, there was a part of Sam that seriously doubted this would be a subject that Dean would ever openly talk about with anyone. 

“So tell me Sam do you really want to throw away a life of hunting, never having a place to call your own, risking life and limb at every turn to go back to school?”

Sam accepted the change in subject in favor of just being able to talk to his big brother. “It was a difficult decision Dean but yeah I do,” he chuckled. 

“Trying for law again?”

“I didn’t get in to that straightaway. I’ll study something else first and then transfer to it, but it’s worth it.”

“Lawyers are sleazy, money-grabbing jerks, second only to used car salesmen,” Dean informed his brother.

“Ouch!” Sam laughed. “I doubt I’ll make any money. I want to defend people like us.”

“What? Hunters?” Dean was genuinely interested in Sam’s plans.

Sam turned to face Dean and animatedly described what he hoped to do when he eventually graduated from law school. “Bobby once told me that there were a lot of hunters out there. We only knew a few like Caleb and Pastor Jim but for example Dad knew Elkins even though we just heard of him a while back. I figure there’s a lot Dad never shared with us for who knows what reason and the hunting community is probably part of his secrets. Anyway, how many times did we end up in trouble and could have done with a lawyer backing us up or getting us off charges? So I thought that since hunters often run on the wrong side of the law then I could become the hunters’ lawyer.” 

Dean smiled, “You know it’s a lucky thing that the good people of Columbia don’t know about our infamous past or maybe they wouldn’t have been so generous to us.”

“Maybe,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Let’s just hope that the past stays past. Anyway I just think that it would’ve been easier for people like us if they had someone who understood the life to help them out. Besides I understand what they go through, I know their world and I know that they’re not crazy. So you see I’m not really abandoning hunting, I’m still supporting the lifestyle but in my own way.”

“You always were a noble son of a bitch,” Dean replied with a smile.

“Well I look at this way Dean I’m a good hunter but I think I could be a great hunters’ lawyer. I just want to follow my strengths. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah Sammy I do, which is why I want to hunt. It’s been my world since Mom was killed and I just don’t know what else to do. I admit it’s a shitty life but it’s all I know.”

“Yes but it’s not the only thing you ever wanted. You told me last year that you once wanted to be a fireman. Why not look into that. Ask Jake about what you need to do to be a hero,” he joked.

Dean sighed, “Honestly Sam I don’t know how well…it’s my leg mainly. The therapist said that it’s getting better but sometimes I think it won’t be any good and then what do I do? Stay put? Work nine to five?”

“Give it a try. That sort of life might grow on you.”

“We’ll see,” Dean replied sadly.

“Man its cold out here. You want to head back?”

Dean took a deep breath as if to calm himself; going back meant he had to face his Dad again and he just didn’t feel up to it but he couldn’t stay in the park all night. “Y…yeah, but stay close. I never know when the leg is gonna g…give out.”

Sam walked slowly next to his obviously exhausted brother. “How ya doing?” he asked.

“F…f…fine but Sam don’t walk too close and no hand holding or nothing. I don’t want the n…neighbors to think we’re dating or something.”

Sam smiled, “Don’t worry I’m here if you need me Dean,” he said and yes maybe he did say it more seriously than he intended to, but it was the truth. Sam would always be there for Dean even if Dean didn’t want the help.

“Right! Hey S…Sammy what have I always taught you?”

Sam knew where this was going but he played along anyway. “That would be ‘no chick flick moments’ Dean.”

Dean beamed. “That’s my boy!”

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!” Dean happily replied as he limped back to their new home to face their Dad.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 27** \- _It’s easy to feel alone in a crowd but harder to get away from the crowd._

 

In hindsight they had been naïve to assume that life would be easier once they stopped hunting; after all, when had life ever been easy for any of the Winchesters? As they approached the first anniversary of _that_ night Dean reflected on his life since coming home. It was a patchwork of highs and lows and even after so long he was still unsure about what the future held for him. Unlike his brother who had started college or his Dad who was happily working in a garage, Dean didn’t know what he wanted. He missed hunting; the freedom to go where he liked, when he liked and the right to choose his own path. Since the cabin incident it seemed that almost everyone told him what he should or shouldn’t do and very few people told him to do whatever he wanted to.

Sam was one of the few people who told him to do what he felt like.

“Dean you’ve got to do what makes you happy,” he’d said.

“Hunting makes me happy,” Dean told him.

“No it doesn’t,” Sam pointed out with a laugh. “Saving people makes you happy, not hunting things. I know you’d put your life on the line any day to get the job done but seriously dude, hunting isn’t your calling.”

Dean smiled at the memory even if he didn’t quite believe what Sam had said. The good thing about his little brother was that he had always been there for Dean. In some respects Sam was his moral compass. He was the one who let Dean run free but reined him in when things were questionable or his actions were inappropriate. So it was no surprise that Sam had been there to pick him up both physically and emotionally during the past year and while Dean would never tell Sam, he was more than a little pleased to know his brother had his back. That was one of the few constants in his ever changing world.

However, one of the major low points of the last few months had been Dean’s lack of independence but around June that all changed. He had been having a bad day and was sitting at the kitchen table lamenting missed hunting opportunities as he browsed through the paper reading about some unusual events in neighboring Kansas. Then he heard it; the familiar thrum of a Chevy V8 engine. He bolted out the front door just as the car pulled into the drive. 

“Your old man said you needed it?” Bobby told him as he climbed from the vehicle and stretched his back.

Dean looked from Bobby to the sleek black Impala and back again.

“Don’t stand there gawking boy. I spent months putting this baby back together again the least you could do is take her for a spin.”

Dean all but flew into the house, grabbed his leather jacket and wallet before racing back outside. He ran his hands tenderly over her curves, checked her tires and lights, and inspected the trunk.

“I thought you might like your tools of the trade back,” he said as he watched Dean lift the false floor of the trunk to see if his hunting gear was still there. “Your Dad said you wanted to keep hunting. Personally if I were you I’d quit and get a day job. Not many of us get the chance to start over. Anyhow it’s all there if you want it.”

Dean nodded as he closed the trunk. He walked around the side and slid into the driver’s seat; and while he lovingly caressed the wheel he inhaled the smell of leather. It was like coming home and at that moment in time everything was alright in Dean’s world.

“You might need these,” Bobby suggested as he held out the keys.

Dean smiled. “Thanks Bobby,” he said as he started the engine, reversed out of the driveway and throttled off down the road.

For the first time since the whole cabin thing and accident went down, Dean was once more behind the wheel of the Impala. Bobby had painstakingly repaired it but apparently in the beginning it had been touch and go for the old gal. Bobby had thought it was too wrecked to fix and had wanted to use her for parts but John and Sam had pleaded, begged and then outright demanded that he do what he could. So while Dean had fought to regain his strength, Bobby had toiled over the broken vehicle in an effort to return it to its former glory. 

That day had been a significant milestone in Dean’s recovery. From then on he drove everywhere; to the hospital, the store and anywhere that he darn well wanted to go because finally he had some control in his life.

One of the first places he drove to was the firehouse to show Jake his cherished Impala.

“So this is it?” Jake asked he looked over the car. “Nice! Very nice!”

Dean beamed, even more so when the other firefighters poured out of the station to inspect the car. All manner of questions about the specifications and performance of the big block classic V8 were asked and Dean confidently answered them all; no signs of forgetfulness or stuttering invaded that moment and Dean was both relieved and happy that everything was going so well.

When the men finally left them alone, Dean wanted to tell Jake that it had been really important to him to share the moment with his friend. “I just wanted to…,” he started but suddenly he just wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. The concept of sharing something, anything, with a friend was still a little new to him.

Like the person Dean knew him to be, Jake saved the day, shrugged off the sappy moment and said, “It’s a sweet ride Dean.” 

Taking advantage of the change in conversation, he replied, “Yeah she sure is. I’ve missed her.”

“So you’re picking me up tonight? It’s Friday in case you had forgotten. We play pool at the bar and you’re my secret weapon.”

“Jake the guys know I can play pool, it’s no secret,” Dean reminded his friend.

“Not the point Dean. We’re a team and besides I like to win and I rarely do when you don’t play.”

“Okay you twisted my arm,” Dean replied with feigned resignation. “Pick you up at eight?” Dean asked he climbed back into the car.

“Great and make sure you knock at the front door honey. I never come to a honking horn,” Jake teased.

“There’s so much I could say to that, but I won’t.” Dean laughed as he gunned the engine. “See ya later,” he called as he drove off to explore this place that the Winchesters now called home. 

Dean liked Jake, really liked him. He was laid back and honest; both qualities that Dean admired. They had talked about their friendship ages ago when he was still in hospital and while the idea of having friends was very foreign to him, Dean had to admit that his life would be empty without the man in it. Jake never pried into Dean’s past nor did he dictate what he thought Dean should be doing with his life. He offered support when Dean needed it, spoke his mind without pushing his own opinions and he seemed to instinctively know when Dean needed cheering up. Most importantly though, Dean was relieved that despite knowing that the Winchesters were hunters, Jake had stuck around, most people wouldn’t have. He was equally pleased that Jake had also let him into his world too. Jake had introduced him to the other firemen, took him to social events and even gave him a ride in a fire truck. So when Dean weighed up the pros and cons of hunting versus making a life in Missouri, one of the things he knew he would miss if he went back to his old life was his friendship with Jake.

Unfortunately, for all the good times Dean had during those months, he also had some seriously bad times too. As his physical injuries healed his emotional ones surged to the forefront. His efforts to keep them at bay by focusing on his more immediate health problems had worked for a while but now, his subconscious took over and night after night he awoke in the grip of terror, disoriented and afraid. The more his sleep was disrupted the worse his days became as he struggled to escape the memories. More than once when things became too intense he found solace at the bottom of a bottle of ‘who cares what.’

“You can’t keep doing this Dean,” John yelled the morning after a particularly heavy binge.

“Why not? You did,” snapped a hung-over Dean.

“Damn it Dean, I had just lost your mother…”

“And I lost my cherry,” Dean drawled as he nursed a cup of coffee. 

John was stunned by his son’s bluntness. He always imagined that if they had ‘that talk’ it wouldn’t have started with a sentence about Dean’s lost ass virginity. He sighed and tried a different tack to get through to his lost boy. “Son I’ve been there.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and stared at his father. “Really? Wow you do get around Dad.”

John wanted to shake some sense into his son but refrained in case he damaged the fragile man further. “Stop it!” He demanded in his best Dad’s voice. “Come on Dean you’re a smart guy, do you honestly think drowning your sorrows is going to fix things?”

Dean shrugged, “It’s sure better than living in my head …and I sleep better. Can’t argue with that, can we Dad! The nightmares,” Dean shook his head as if to push them to the back of his mind, “none of us get any sleep when I have ’em, especially me, so are you really going to argue over me having a drink or two?”

“A drink or two? Try a bottle or two. You can’t keep doing this son. It’s not healthy.”

“Well how the hell do you think I lasted all those years of hunting Dad? How do you think I coped with what I saw or had happen to me? I didn’t just close my eyes and dream of butterflies. My dreams were full of monsters and they were real and you brought them into my life and now when I’m trying to deal with them, you stand there and tell me I’m doing it wrong. Give me a break!”

John was so tired of the arguments. Nothing he said helped and nothing he did was right. He knew Dean had a right to punish him but they needed to find the middle ground; and right now Dean was so far out of left field John wondered if he would ever find his way back.

He sat down opposite him, “Dean you need help. I don’t know what to do?” he admitted. “I don’t know how to make things better for you.”

Dean laughed but it was hollow and frightening to John’s ears.

“You can’t salt and burn this one Dad,” Dean told him. “You can’t exorcise this demon. It’s mine and mine alone.”

And Dean was right. What occurred that night happened to him alone, not John or Sam, just him. Yes, his Dad might have been the unwilling vessel that carried out the act and yes, Sam witnessed it; but Dean felt it, he experienced it and now he had to deal with it, except he didn’t know how to. For as long as Dean could remember John had always told the boys to ‘suck it up’ but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced and he didn’t know who or where to turn for guidance. 

There had been a time when Dean would have hung off every word his Dad uttered and he would have followed him to the ends of the earth but that was before that night at the cabin. His blind faith in the man’s judgment and abilities had been unwavering but now, despite having said time and again that what happened wasn’t John’s fault, deep down Dean knew that it was. He knew that he was the unintended victim of his father’s vendetta to kill the thing that had killed his mother and until John addressed that issue, no amount of talking or apologies would make any difference. So day in and day out he kept doing what he could to survive and when the walls closed in and the memories became too raw he argued with anyone in earshot, drank himself senseless or escaped in his car.

Since leaving hospital Dean’s life was full of peaks and troughs; the nightmares, arguments and hangovers were the low points but regaining his independence, seeing his health improve and enjoying the wonderful world of friends were the best of times. Sadly though there was no in between and he didn’t even know where he could start to find that. Worse still, the first anniversary of that night was just days away. It hung over him and his family and haunted his sleeping and waking moments. Dean hoped that it would pass unobtrusively, with minimal fuss from his family and maximum alone time but somehow he doubted he would get either. 

The day before the dreaded anniversary Dean made his way to the hospital to see Dr. Jessop for a health check. 

“I’ll need to see you again in four months but I have to say, you’ve made remarkable progress Dean considering what you’ve been through,” Jessop proudly announced. 

Dean shrugged and muttered, “Doesn’t feel like it some days.”

“Are we talking physically or mentally?” 

“Both,” he quietly admitted. “Some days I’m exhausted and that’s before I even get up. I feel like I’m dragging my ass around the house, my leg throbs, and my head hurts and breathing is an effort. Other days I can work on my car, do a hundred different things and you’d never know I had ever been sick. I don’t get it.”

“Dean do you really need me to list all that you went through for you to see that time is your best friend? Mark my words this time next year you will be amazed at how differently you will feel. What about your mental health? Anything you want to talk about?” He casually asked.

Dean wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. “No,” but he didn’t sound very convincing.

So Dr Jessop pushed the issue. “Are you having nightmares? Maybe drinking a bit too much?”

Dean sat up straight and glared at the doctor. “Has my Dad been talking to you?” He asked angrily.

Jessop gave a sad smile, “No Dean. You’re my patient. I only talk to you and what you tell me is between us and it stays here in this office. I don’t share, but maybe you need to.”

Dean relaxed a little and thought about what the doctor had just said. “I looked it up on the internet…what I feel. It’s normal you know…the drinking, the anger...”

“…The tiredness, the depression. Yes I do know, but you would also know from your research, that maybe as the years go on things might get better but chances are they won’t. Get it off your chest man because the longer you store it up, the longer it will fester and there is a real chance that it will become a wound that never heals. Is that what you really want Dean, to feel this way forever?”

Dean leapt to his feet and began to pace impatiently, “But that’s the problem I don’t want to feel anything! I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t want to relive it. I want to forget…”

“Except you can’t because you wake up every night having experienced it, all…over…again. Am I right Dean?”

Dean threw his head back, fisted his hands over his eyes and sighed in frustration, “Doc I can’t…”

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 28** \- _You can’t find your way out of a maze if you close eyes._

 

Dean wanted tomorrow to be over and done with. Ideally he wanted the day to be as normal as possible; no fanfare, no fuss. So the plan was for John to go to work as usual, Sam to go to college and Dean intended to spend some time with Jake. His family was happy that he wasn’t going to be alone and they were more than a little relieved that it wasn’t them that had to spend the day with him and from Dean’s perspective those feelings were mutual. He really didn’t want to have to bond with John and Sam over a botched hunt and demon rape.

Unfortunately the three of them still had to get through the night before that awful day would dawn. Dinner was a quiet event, all three of them were edgy and no matter how hard they tried their conversations were stilted; eye contact minimal and a sense of dread pervaded the house. Dean couldn’t stand it any longer and went to bed early but awoke around 2am in the grip of a particularly savage night terror. 

Dean was no stranger to nightmares; he had had them since his mother was killed and his home caught fire but since that night at the cabin they had taken on a life of their own and as the days marched inevitably towards tomorrow’s anniversary, they became more brutal. His dreams were haunted by a kaleidoscope of images of a hunt that went horribly wrong; of being torn asunder by evil incarnate masquerading as his father and of feeling like he was drowning in his own blood. No matter how hard he tried to escape the horror he couldn’t and so he was forced to relive it night after night in 3D. 

On this night the dream was particularly vivid as Dean tried to fend off an invisible assailant. His body was wracked with pain; every fiber of his being throbbed in absolute agony and he felt like he was being shredded from the inside out. He screamed out in fear and panic, pleaded for his Dad to wrest control from the demon and to save him from his suffering but no help came and the torture went on and on until Dean thought he would die from the sheer intensity of it all. 

John and Sam were wrenched from their sleep by the terrifying screams coming from Dean’s room. It’s not like they hadn’t heard his nightmares before but tonight his terror was palpable and as John burst into Dean’s room he half expected to see that his son had been eviscerated by some supernatural being. What he found however, was Dean desperately trying to fight off an enemy that only he could see. 

Although Dean’s eyes were wide open he didn’t recognize his father or brother as they stood near his bed. When John moved closer to try and help Dean, Dean saw his persecutor not his rescuer and frantically scrambled to escape. At first John tried to wake him with words alone, but Dean fixed his gaze on the person in front of him and watched yellow eyes glow indifferently to his torture and heard only words of shame and humiliation not comfort and care. 

John was concerned that Dean would actually cause himself harm if this went on much longer. So he tried, somewhat ineffectually, to pin Dean to the bed so that he wouldn’t hurt himself but it didn’t exactly go the way John had planned. For Dean, the feeling of being restrained only added to his panic and for the first time ever he managed to do the one thing he hadn’t been able to do that night in the cabin or any night since; he found the strength to fight back and punched the demon square in the face. It certainly had the reaction he had intended as the ‘demon’ instantly released him and reeled backwards in shock and pain.

Unfortunately for John he was the ‘demon’ and so he took the brunt of Dean’s rage. He was taken off guard by the sheer force of the punch and fell backwards landing on his ass in a crash of furniture and a string of expletives. 

Sam ran to help his Dad who was by now nursing a bloody nose and in the middle of the uproar Dean woke, realized what had happened and began to vomit uncontrollably from the shock.

************************************

Half an hour later the three Winchesters sat quietly in the kitchen having cleaned up and calmed down. 

“Here, put this on your face,” Sam ordered as he handed John a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel.

“I was going to use those,” John grumbled as he placed the makeshift compress across his nose. “I think my nose is broken.” 

“Sorry,” muttered Dean as he subconsciously rubbed his sore knuckles. 

“No you’re not,” John replied. “But it’s okay,” he reassured his eldest son.

Dean simply nodded. It wasn’t often that his Dad seemed to understand how he felt.

Sam handed his brother a cup of tea made with honey and lemon.

Dean sniffed the brew and with a voice hoarse from screaming remarked, “This is a chick drink why can’t I have a coffee?” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “Really? After all that screaming you still have enough voice left to complain… amazing! Just drink it Dean, it will soothe your throat,” he replied as he sat down wearily at the table. He looked from his shaken brother to his stunned father and came to a decision. “Houston we have a problem,” he announced, “and frankly I don’t fucking care if you two don’t want to talk about it, because I do. This can’t go on…”

“Sam…” a very tired Dean started to say.

“Shut up Dean, drink your tea and listen to someone who cares. Look at you, you’re throat’s raw, you’re spewing more than a bulimic supermodel, you drink way too much and you’re fucked in the head, which I might add happened long before that night at the cabin. As for you Dad you have control issues. I know you’re worried sick about Dean but you can’t wrap him up in cotton wool and protect from him the world. Color me stupid but it was at your hand, albeit unwillingly I know, that he ended up the way he did. So trying to keep him close to you every minute of the day is actually making things worse, not better. He needs space, please let him have it. You have to accept that he’s a big boy now Dad and you have to let him go. I appreciate that you were trying to protect us from all the evil out there but as it stands at the moment I see two rules in this house. One is Sam can do what he likes and the other is Dean must be monitored at all times. May I point out that I am slightly jealous of being ignored but I can live with it because I have the freedom to do what I want, when I want. However, Dean is older and way more capable than I am of dealing with the shit out there, yet you’re micromanaging his life.”

“Actually I keep tabs on both of you,” John said with a shrug. “Talismans, devils traps…you name it and look for it and you’ll find it…under rugs, in your cars…I just wanted to make sure you were both okay. Since I can’t be with either of you twenty-four seven this was the only way I knew to ensure that you had some protection,” he confessed.

Sam was somewhat surprised by this admission. “You don’t trust me to look after myself?” 

“It’s not about trust Sam and a minute ago you were upset because you thought I paid too much attention to Dean. Well I haven’t. I worry about you both equally.”

“So why did you do it? I mean I know we all used to, but why now?”

John sighed, “You always have your head in a book and I worry that you might not notice that something is out there. You work hard, you study heaps, you’re concerned about Dean and you’re tired and distracted. I was just trying to make sure you didn’t have to think about all that other stuff too.”

“Oh,” Sam was a little lost for words. “That’s fair…thanks Dad…I think.”

Dean laughed, he had already worked out what his Dad had been doing but Sam’s reaction was priceless and a bright spot in an otherwise miserable moment.

“Laugh it up Dean,” Sam whined. 

“Come on Sammy did you really think Dad would just stop being a hunter?”

“No…maybe!”

“Yeah well Dean’s right. It’s not that easy to turn it all off,” John tried to explain his motives. “I stopped looking for hunts to go on, but I wanted to be prepared, you know, in case something did happen.” 

“Okay I understand that you’ve spent a lifetime running our lives Dad and it would be hard to break that habit, but please try,” Sam suggested earnestly. “Like it or not we’re adults; hell Dean will be thirty in a year or so. The protection thing aside, which is okay…I guess…” Sam shook his head a little as he tried to get back to his point. “Anyway, don’t you think treating Dean like an adult might be better for him in the long run than checking on him around the clock? After all Dean wasn’t the one who got possessed and he picked up that you were possessed by the demon way before I did. He’s a great hunter, give him some credit. He did everything right that night, it was you that didn’t and all the signs, symbols and over-protecting now doesn’t make up for that one mistake.” 

John readjusted his cold compress on his face as Sam’s words hit their mark. So he tried to clarify it all to the boys, “I never meant to stifle either of you, especially you Dean. While Sam’s distracted with life in general, I was afraid that you weren’t physically strong enough to defend yourself if you had to and I guess deep down I also worried that maybe the demons would still come after us.” 

“What the…you never told me that!” Sam challenged.

“I didn’t want to bother you Sam with my own insecurities.”

“Oh so I…we,” he pointed to Dean, “We get to live a free life while you shoulder all the responsibility...again. After all those talks you and I had at the hospital about letting us in to your life, obviously they went in one ear and out the other. Why can’t you just share stuff Dad?” 

“Sam I’ve been hunting for over twenty years. I just don’t down shift that quickly. I want to be the guy who works in a garage during the week, who is attuned to the weird and whacky activity out there and who deals with it if it crosses his path but it’s going to take a while to get there. So yeah, I still worry about demon attacks and other things like vengeful spirits, rawhides…you know the usual suspects. Until I can see that we, and especially you boys, are safe, I guess it’s natural to fall back into old habits. I’m sorry and I’ll try harder to share both the intel and my concerns in the future.”

Sam was still caught up on the fact that John was worried about demon revenge attacks. “Now about the demons, surely they would have made a move before now if they were going to and besides that servant Demon said all hits were off. So why would you think they might be waiting for a chance to have a go at us now?”

“Come on son you know as well as I do that demons lie. I want to believe that what the servant told us was the truth, deep down I guess I know it is but every time I look at Dean I’m reminded of what happened because of a demon’s deceit and I worry…a little too much it seems.”

Sam sighed. “Dad I know that you feel guilty about what happened to Dean but if you had listened to our ideas, then maybe Dean wouldn’t have been hurt and you wouldn’t have spent the better part of the last year tearing yourself apart because of it. The point is, you can’t keep blaming yourself or you won’t be able to move forward and if you can’t let go of it then how can you expect Dean to?”

“You think this is easy for me Sam, watching Dean fall apart before my eyes because of what I did?” John angrily replied. “Every time I look at your brother I feel that guilt, so how can I expect him to forgive me if I can’t forgive myself? I can’t take it back and I can’t make things easier for him now. I don’t know what to do…”

Sam also raised his voice and barked back, “Well dancing around the issue isn’t going to help either. Dean was raped …”

Dean flinched as Sam said the ‘r’ word. 

Sam saw how uncomfortable Dean was with the discussion but he felt it better to keep going rather than soften the blow as he normally would do. “Dean it happened, you have to face it and not talking about it won’t make it go away. Come on Dean, even you know you need help. I understand that we can’t just wander down to the local rape crisis center and say ‘hey, Dad here got possessed by a high ranking demon and then he raped Dean and nearly tore him to shreds.’ Yeah that would go down really well. We’d all be committed but we can’t keep sweeping this under the carpet either. Bottom line, like it or not, we have to deal with it here, now, amongst ourselves or we won’t be a family anymore and we won’t be able to move on with our lives either. So maybe we all need to bring this out into the open.”

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He was tired and frustrated and his hopes of the day ebbing away quietly were shot to pieces the moment he uttered his first scream. He was wound up, worn down and so very tired of feeling like this every day. So he took a deep breath and did as Sam recommended.

“You want me to talk Sam? You want me to tell you and Dad, how I feel about all of it? Fine, I will, but just so you both know, this is a one off deal. Neither of you get to ask me about it again nor will I ever talk about it again off my own bat and if things don’t improve by your standards, well then tough because maybe things are okay for me. So after this you two need to get off my case. It’s a today only special take it or leave it and don’t complain about what I say or how I see it, because this is about me for a change. Deal or no deal?” 

“Deal,” they both agreed, although neither Sam nor John were sure how this would end, they were prepared to take whatever Dean dished out because he was right, it really was all about him.

Dean braced himself at the table and began, “For starters Dad, as Sam pointed out, you screwed up big time when you went to see Meg. Did you really think you could beat her? You must have known there would be other demons there. How did you intend to defend yourself? A replica pistol and a bottle of holy water are hardly enough when faced with juiced up demons. Come on, I thought you were smarter than that, oh, wait you _were_. I bet you never thought you would survive it and yet despite feeling that way you still went knowing full well that your death would dump the whole thing back in our laps. 

John winced.

“Bull’s-eye!” Dean stated as he noted John’s reaction. “So you chose a suicide mission over protecting us, your own flesh and blood. I just don’t get it? What advantage would there be if you were dead? Sam and I had the colt so old Yellow-Eyes would still have been after us. Don’t you see, I would probably have still ended up reamed and dead, except it wouldn’t have been you doing the reaming?”

John visibly recoiled at the thought.

“Nice mental image right? I see it and feel it every night in my sleep,” he informed his Dad. “Now about Meg…I know she threatened to kill our friends so you felt you had no choice but to face her when she demanded the colt, but really Dad if you were after the Yellow-Eyed Demon then why not stay in Salvation to kill it? Sam and I didn’t have twenty years’ experience hunting; you did. All we managed to do was save that family. If you had been there you could have killed the demon and saved that family and then we could have all gone after Meg and the other demons together. Instead, with just us saving the family meant the demon got away and we all know what happened to you after that. As it was Meg who turned up at Bobby’s looking for the colt. So we still had to deal with her anyway before going to look for you and of course by then you were already possessed. The point is Dad, there were alternatives to how this could have gone down but you never wanted to hear about them.”

“The moment you went out on your own meant we were toast. You thought you would die and you were prepared to leave us to an uncertain fate. So why deliver yourself to the demons’ den when you knew it wanted Sammy. You knew that to get to him it had kill you and me. What I don’t understand is why you were prepared to sacrifice our lives. Who was going to help Sam when we were gone?”

“I never wanted to be its special kid Dean,” Sam suddenly exclaimed. 

“Dad and I know that Sammy but the point stands, the demon was after you and to get to you it had to kill Dad _and_ me. So why did you just bend over and take it Dad? Trust me it’s not something you would willingly do without a good reason but for the life of me I can’t work out what the hell that reason was?”

John sat back defeated. Obviously once Dean had come out of his coma he’d had plenty of time to think through what had happened and he wasn’t happy which John fully understood.

“There was no special reason Dean. Honestly I thought you would be able to kill it and that I would be a diversion so that Meg didn’t go to help the Yellow-Eyed Demon. I guess the real answer though was that I had tunnel vision. I screwed up. I actually thought Meg would be alone; hell almost every time she crossed our paths she was, so I thought it would be the same this time. Pretty dumb I guess. I almost got away with it though. She only had her brother with her; he’s the one who beat up Sam. Anyhow, I almost made it to the truck when they grabbed me and Yellow-Eyes arrived and it was game over. Boys I didn’t set you up, nor did I _plan_ to abandon you. I really thought that because you had the colt that you would have an advantage. So I reasoned that _if_ I died and you had killed the demon then Sam would be safe and you could get on with your lives.”

Dean shook his head in despair, “And did you have an alternative plan in case we fucked up or god forbid, you did?”

“Dean I didn’t think we would fail,” John insisted.

“You mean you didn’t think Sam and I would fail? Your plan was to die regardless of our success.”

“Fine! I admit that I thought I wouldn’t make it out of there alive and yes because I miss your mother I guess I didn’t care if that’s how it ended up _but_ I wasn’t going to go without a fight. Unfortunately I hadn’t thought things through and the possibility that I might end up being a meat suit didn’t cross my mind. As we all know sometimes there are worse things than dying. Believe when I say there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish it had just killed me instead of using me.”

“So how long had you known that the thing that killed Mom was such a high-ranking demon?” Sam asked. “Right from the start?”

“I wish,” John growled. “Look I’m not a demon expert, that’s Bobby’s territory. I haven’t come across that many. Maybe if I had, then I wouldn’t have gone into this situation with rose-colored glasses on. Back in Kansas when I found your Mom on the ceiling, I had no idea what I was dealing with. All I knew was that what I saw in the nursery that night was pure evil and I needed to get you two away from there in case it came back for you. That’s why we hit the road, never stayed in one place longer than we had too. I wanted to keep one step ahead of whatever it was and for the record, while I found it in Sam’s nursery I had no idea if it was after just Sam or both of you. I thought maybe it had gone to you first Sam and your Mom interrupted it and it never had a chance to get to Dean. I could never tell but as you grew up, you both seemed like normal kids so I tried not to worry too much about what its intentions were. It was only after Dean told me that you had special abilities Sam, that I realized it had targeted you specifically. By the time you boys went looking for me in Jericho I was on the run from it; it knew I was on to it and it wanted to kill me. When I finally rang and told you what it was, it already had us firmly in its sights. Unfortunately I knew that it would keep coming after us until it got you Sam and that it made sure Dean and I were dead. So I had to find the colt. We needed to kill it or we would have been looking over our shoulders forever,” he stated tiredly. 

“Okay I can see how that all happened, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not a team player Dad and never have been. You can’t drag us around on the road with you for two decades and then abandon us to our fate because you were prepared to die. Come on Dad, that’s not how we hunt,” Dean reminded him.

“I know son. I just got swept up in the idea of it all being over. I saw the goal line and not the opposing team. I’m sorry because it’s such a lame excuse.”

Dean suddenly changed the direction of the conversation and asked. “When it took you over did it tell you what it intended to do…you know?” 

“NO!” John emphatically replied. “All it said was I would be its meat suit forever and that I would have to watch it take Sam away and…”

“Kill me,” Dean filled in for him.

“Yeah.”

“And you couldn’t take control…some control?” asked Dean.

“Oh Dean, son, I tried. That thing was so powerful. Stronger than anything I’d ever encountered. I tried so hard to give you a sign that I was possessed and it laughed at me, taunted me about how it was going to make me pay for interfering in its business by hurting you boys. The thing is, I never was able to let you know it was in me. It wasn’t until it praised you at the cabin Dean, that you worked out that it was a set-up. I’m so sorry…so sorry son…”

Dean nodded. He remembered the conversation that led him to the conclusion that their enemy was right there in front of him.

“Did I make it rape me?” Dean suddenly blurted out. “I’d told it you’d tear me a new one because I had wasted a bullet for the colt and that’s exactly what went down. Did I cause this to happen?”

John was horrified by Dean’s question. “Oh god, no son,” cried John. “This isn’t your fault. That demon wanted to make _me_ pay for making its miserable existence _fucking_ miserable so it wanted _me_ to hurt you. You didn’t cause this. Dean rape is all about power and control and that demon got off on it big time.”

Dean seemed to be locked in to the memory of that night, “It raped me Dad. Do you have any idea how painful that was? I thought I would die, I wanted to die. I tried to block it out, the feelings, the pain, the humiliation, but I couldn’t. I kept hoping that with all the blood that it would get easier but it didn’t and inside I was on fire. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. I couldn’t close my eyes because it… I could hear it and all the time it hurt so bad,” he sobbed.

Sam went to comfort Dean but John shook his head. Dean needed to get this off his chest and Sam might inadvertently cause Dean to repress it all again and that just wouldn’t do; not when they had come so far. 

“I can still hear it,” Dean continued “the things it said and the way it talked… except it sounded like you. I knew you were possessed but it reminded me of when you’d dress me down for some fuck up but then it would laugh, that hollow laugh and I remembered that it wasn’t you and that you were a victim too.”

“There’s only one victim here Dean and that’s you. What happened to me was my fault but what happened to you was unspeakable. I won’t even pretend to say I know how you feel son, because I don’t, but I can see how you’re hurting and I wish I could take that pain away but I don’t know what to do to help you. I don’t know what you need.”

“You never believed all that shit it said did you? …about wanting me because I reminded you of Mom?”

“Dean you remind me of your mother in so many ways but not that one. Demons lie and twist your thoughts; it did a number on you. I'm sorry that you were put in that situation and it’s my fault you were. I was supposed to protect you, not hurt you.”

Dean seemed to pull himself together and looked John square in the eye, “It’s the demon’s doing Dad. You fucked up in getting possessed but it was the demon that hurt me. Why the hell do you think I kept telling you in the hospital that it wasn’t your fault? Yeah my head is messed up because your body raped me but in my dreams I only ever see the Yellow-Eyed Demon. I guess this is just something that will take time to heal and considering how screwed up I was before this, it may take a _really_ long while but I don’t blame you Dad. I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m angry because you ended up possessed, but the rape…” he shook his head. “We both got screwed Dad. Anyway I just need to find a way out of this…I was raped and my family saw it. It’s difficult you know…I feel so used, so unclean…I…I need time…please let _me_ deal with this in my own way. I appreciate that you both want to help but this is my journey and only I can take it,” he said with an air of finality as he rose from the table and went back to his room.

“Is he going to be alright? A concerned Sam asked once he heard Dean’s door close.

“I hope so son, but Dean’s right. He’s in an awful situation and rehashing it with us won’t help. He’s had his say so now we let him deal with it and be there if he needs us. That’s all we can do.”

************************************

John was pleased to see Dean up early that morning. His son had had an emotional night and he wasn’t sure how he’d be today. Yes he looked like he had been run over by a truck but at least he wasn’t pretending that everything was okay. So maybe the talk had helped him a little after all.

Dean had barely slept after he went back to his room but he did feel marginally better for having talked about his problems. Not that it resolved much but at least they all had a say and that’s better than second guessing how they each felt all the time or dancing around each other with John and Sam trying not to upset him.

“You’re up early,” John commented as he packed his lunch.

“I didn’t want to waste the day in bed. Anyway sleep and I don’t mix well these days,” Dean stated frankly.

“Yeah I know,” John said as he gingerly touched his nose. “Hey take it easy today kiddo okay?” 

“Yeah Dad.”

“Are you still catching up with Jake?”

“Later,” Dean replied. “So is your nose okay?” He tentatively asked as he noted the bruising on his Dad’s face.

John smiled. “Not the first broken nose I’ve had, I’ll live. See you later son.”

“Yeah,” Dean said as he watched his Dad leave. “Dad!” he suddenly shouted just before John closed the front door.

“Dean what’s wrong?” John cried as he turned around to face him. When he looked at Dean he wondered if he should still go to work. There was just…he couldn’t put his finger on it but his boy seemed _off_ in some way.

“Nothing…I…thank you for last night,” Dean said, as he unexpectedly went over and hugged his Dad. 

John was overcome by emotion, “I love you son,” he whispered.

“Love you too Dad,” Dean replied before stepping back.

John nodded, smiled through teary eyes and left for work.

“Morning,” Sam called from behind Dean. “Dad gone?”

“Hey Sammy. Yeah he just left.”

“I…uhm…hope I wasn’t out of line last night?” he asked.

Dean smiled a little. “Nah. You were right. I needed to get it out there.”

“Did it help?”

“It’s a start,” And it was, Dean knew that but he also knew that he had a long way to go. “So are you off to lawyer school today?” He asked changing the topic quickly.

“Not at law school yet Dean, but yes heading out to the library and I have an afternoon lecture.”

“You’ll make a great lawyer one day Sammy,” Dean proudly told his little brother.

“Hope so. Although I tend to be a little pushy at times.”

Dean laughed. “That’s a tool of the trade isn’t?” 

“Suppose so. You gonna be to okay today?” Like John, Sam was a little reluctant to leave Dean alone.

“Hey weren’t you the one last night that said I was old enough to run my own life?”

“Okay I get it. I…”

Dean hugged his brother, “Thanks for everything Sammy.”

Sam returned the hug, “I wish I could do more,” he said sincerely.

Dean stepped back and smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay Sammy. It just takes time. Even Doc Jessop said that. Anyway, get going or you’ll hit the traffic.”

“Dean we live in Columbia, Missouri not Chicago, Illinois, its peak minute not peak hour but yes, I do need to get going. So…see you later?”

“Jeez Sam no more chick flick moments. Go already.”

“Hey you hugged me,” Sam reminded him

“Yeah dude I did. Now off to school you go and play nice with the other boys and girls.”

“Okay, I’m going,” Sam happily responded as he headed out the door.

“See ya Sammy,” Dean called after him.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 29** \- _The enemy within is difficult to recognize and harder to fight._

 

The anniversary was always going to be a difficult time for the Winchesters so while Dean had decided to spend his day with Jake in order to cope with his memories; John and Sam had opted to spend a quiet night at home. They felt emotionally drained by the whole thing and neither man felt the need to discuss the significance of the day any further. They had thrashed out their thoughts on that particular topic in the early hours of the morning and now, having been at work and college all day, both were content to kick back and watch a bit of mindless entertainment on the television. Their relaxation however, was interrupted by the sound of the door bell ringing. 

“Wonder who that is?” A half-asleep Sam murmured.

“Why don’t you go answer it and then we’ll both know,” John suggested as he gazed distractedly at the television.

“Geez what did your last slave die of?” teased Sam as he headed to the door. 

“A poor work ethic,” John yelled back to his youngest son.

Sam was still laughing at his Dad when he opened the front door, “Ah, hi what are you doing here?” 

“And hello to you too Sam,” Jake cheerfully responded, although he was somewhat disappointed by the less than friendly greeting he had just received. Still the Winchesters did have their moments and obviously Sam was having one today. “Hey can I come in? It’s a bit cold out here tonight.” He asked as he waited for an invite inside. “You can sure tell winter is just around the corner,” he added to emphasize that he was _really_ cold and that he wanted to be let in.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Come on in.” 

“So who’s at the door?” John called out when Sam didn’t return immediately.

“Dad and I were just watching the TV,” Sam informed Jake as he led the way back to the living room.

As Jake entered the room he couldn’t contain his shock. “Wow, what happened to your face?” he blurted out as soon as he saw John.

“I walked into a door,” John replied pragmatically.

Jake knew instantly what had happened. “Dean had a bad night huh?” 

“You know about his nightmares?” a surprised Sam asked.

Jake just shook his head in amazement at Sam. “Well yeah I do. He’s stays at my place a lot and in case you didn’t realize it, nightmares don’t stop just because you change beds.”

Sam bristled at the comment but held his tongue…this time. He still held a lingering jealousy towards Jake. It’s not that he hated the guy, it’s just that he hated that Dean spent time with him. Just like Dean was getting used to having a friend, Sam was also coming to grips with Dean having a friend. He figured it would take a while for that concept to sink in and when it finally did he presumed that he wouldn’t mind sharing Dean but until that happened he still felt like he had to fight for Dean’s attention…yep he was jealous alright.

Jake, oblivious to Sam’s reaction, chatted away happily. “Yeah poor bastard. They’re not pretty when they happen, are they? I was lucky. I weaved but it looks like you should have ducked John,” he stated as he took in John’s beaten up appearance.

John was so not interested in a discussion about his face, especially not today when the memories of a year ago were so raw. However, something else grabbed his attention and he abruptly rose from his seat and surged towards his house guest. “Where’s Dean?” He all but shouted at the man in front of him.

Jake was totally confused by the question and even more so by John’s aggressive stance and tone. “Exactly what I was about to ask,” he replied evenly. “It’s Friday night, pool night at the bar and it’s my turn to drive. I told Dean I’d pick him up around 8.30 and oh look its 8.30 on the dot,” he stressed as he pointed to his watch face. “Never let it be said that I am late for a date.”

John’s eyebrows shot up and Sam stared with opened mouthed. 

“Date?” A confused Sam asked.

“Figure of speech sunshine! It’s just a joke. Don’t get your panties in a bunch over it. I’m not dating your brother. So…where’s Dean? I didn’t see his car in the driveway.”

John and Sam exchanged concerned looks.

“Have you seen Dean at all today?” John asked his face squarely in Jake’s.

John’s tone had taken on a dangerous edge and Jake was a little concerned what the hell was going on.

“Ah, no! Should I have? I was on duty today and…” Jake stopped talking as John unexpectedly disappeared into another room and returned just as quickly with an EMF meter and began scanning him. “What? No! Stop that!” he said as he batted the scanner away. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just stand still and let him do it. It doesn’t hurt,” he told Jake.

Jake was having none of it. “It’s not the scan that bothers me Sam. It’s the intention behind it. Look guys, I think I’m a very reasonable man. I’ve put up with a lot from you two, especially you John. What with the salt and symbols and devil’s thingy stuff all over my car and in my house and even under my bed at the firehouse, but really? You’re checking me out now? What the hell have I done _this time_?”

“Him too?” An astonished Sam asked his Dad. It slowly dawned on Sam that his Dad’s obsession to keep his sons safe extended way beyond the walls of their home or their cars.

John snorted, “Of course,” he confessed with a shrug. “Dean hangs out there so… look it seemed like a good idea at the time. Oh and Sam don’t sit at the same table in the library every time you go there. Mix it up a little son, it’s safer that way,” he advised his startled son.

“You know where I sit?”

“Yeah and where you get coffee and…point is I’ve got you covered.”

By this stage Jake was sure John was sounding more like Sheldon Cooper than Indiana Jones still he stayed quiet and listened to the exchange between father and son with keen interest.

Sam just shook his head. “You have control issues. You know that right?”

“Yes Sam I got that memo loud and clear in the early hours of this morning!” John sighed. He was so frustrated that this son just didn’t get that he was trying to protect him. At least Dean seemed to take the news with a grain of salt but Sam had to protest every little thing. 

So while Sam and John deliberated the latter’s preoccupation with shielding the boys from all manner of underworld evils, Jake began to pace back and forth. Clearly something was going on that he wasn’t privy to yet, but it concerned Dean and that concerned him big time. 

“Stand still,” boomed John as he broke away from his discussion with Sam to finish his scan of Jake.

“Back off man,” Jake snapped back. “How come you think I’m a…what does that thing check for anyway?”

“Supernatural stuff,” John muttered as he concentrated on finishing the job at hand whether Jake wanted it done or not. “He’s clean.” John finally informed Sam.

“Well thank you Captain Obvious. I could have told you that. So what’s the problem? Where’s Dean?” A somewhat unnerved Jake asked again.

“We thought he was with you,” the men chorused…

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 30** \- _The difference between being lost and not been found is purely perspective._

 

John, Sam and Jake stared at each other in horror. The realization that Dean had disappeared some time during the preceding twelve hours was alarming and why he was missing was even more a mystery. 

Jake pulled out his cellphone and called Dean. “Pick up, come on Dean, pick up,” he pleaded but any hope that Dean would answer was dashed when the muffled notes of the _Highway to Hell_ ringtone sounded nearby. 

“Dean?” John shouted as he raced down the hall and burst into Dean’s room but his son wasn’t there and apparently hadn’t been there all day as the room was seemingly undisturbed. 

A cursory search of the room located the cellphone on the floor between the bed and the bedside table and that discovery sent a chill through them all because Dean and his phone were inseparable.

“It must have been knocked off the table when he had the nightmare,” Sam concluded.

“True, but even if it was an accident that it fell there, Dean would never have consciously left home without it,” John pointed out. 

The three men saw no obvious sign of violence in the room; nothing seemed out of place and to all of them it appeared as if Dean had simply left for the day with every intention of returning later.

“His bag is gone,” Sam suddenly announced as he stared into the closet.

“No surprise there,” Jake responded. “He often packs a bag in case he ends up staying at my place.”

Sam looked long and hard at Dean’s things and as he rummaged around he could see that almost all Dean’s clothes were still in the closet or drawers. He quickly came to the conclusion that Dean hadn’t planned on going away for an extended period of time and reluctantly agreed with Jake that he had probably just packed for overnight or the weekend at the most. Yet regardless of where he intended to sleep tonight, right now Dean was missing and either he suddenly decided to head out on his own instead of meeting Jake or worse, someone or something took him while he was home alone. 

John scanned the room with the EMF meter. “Needle isn’t registering anything unusual,” he noted with some relief. 

“Okay good but he’s obviously not here and nor has anything else been here that might have hurt him, so where the hell is he?” A frustrated Sam asked.

“I don’t know son but don’t worry we’ll find him. Why don’t you go talk to the neighbors to see if they’ve seen him at all today or if they’ve seen anything unusual? Also check out the places he goes to nearby, like the park and the local store and I’ll drive around the district in case his car broke down. Without a phone he might be trying to walk home.”

“Well I’ll head down to the bar. Maybe he forgot that I was supposed to pick him up. If he’s not there I’ll see if he’s been to the firehouse or my place.” Jake assured John and Sam as he headed out the door.

John nodded. “Okay, stay in touch and meet back here in an hour.” John told the two men. 

John was worried. He knew something was wrong when he left for work today but after the discussion in the early hours of the morning about giving the boys more freedom he was reluctant to crowd Dean, especially on this day. So he’d gone to work and Dean had simply gone.

*****************************************

An hour later the three men were back at the house. 

“Nothing! No sign of him!” Sam announced to his Dad and Jake as he made his way to the living room and flopped down into a chair. “I checked with all the neighbors and no one saw him nor did they hear or see the car leave. He hasn’t been to the store today, but the owner said Dean bought milk and bread yesterday. It doesn’t seem like he was planning a great escape.”

The others tended to agree with him.

“I drove around the streets, didn’t see the Impala or Dean,” John wearily explained. “Came back here and rang a few people we know…I tried to get hold of Doc Jessop but he’s at a conference in Phoenix for the weekend, also spoke to Mary O’Brien, Wilson Turnbull, and even Bobby but no-one knows anything.”

“You called the lawyer?” Sam was still hung up on that little tidbit.

John laughed at Sam’s response. “Yeah I did. Hey the guy’s okay; a bit like a dog with a bone but his heart’s in the right place. I didn’t expect that he would have seen Dean, hell Dean barely knows him but…” John shrugged, “I thought it was better to call and feel like an idiot than not ring and discover later that Dean was over there for some obscure reason.” 

Again they all agreed it was best to leave no stone unturned.

“What about you Jake?” John asked.

Jake sighed in frustration. “Well clearly I didn’t find him. I talked to the boys at the bar. Dean never turned up. No-one’s seen him or heard from him. I swung past the firehouse, same deal. My house was empty too. No sign of him. He has a key to the house but nothing inside tells me that he was ever there,” Jake threw his hands into the air. “So what now?” 

John rubbed his hands over his tired face “Well after contacting all the hospitals, funeral parlors and even the morgue and no-one registered in his name or description was found or admitted to any of those places, I spoke with Lisa Warren…” 

“The police?” Sam yelled as he sat bolt upright in his chair. “You called the police?”

“She’s a police liaison officer Sam,” John explained.

“She’s still a cop Dad. Since when do we work with the cops?”

“Since we became respectable,” John reminded him. “Sam, Dean is missing and we need to use every resource we have to find him. Lisa is going to keep an ear out for any word on him but until we have proof that he was ‘taken’ by someone as opposed to ‘left’ of his own accord, then there is little the police can do anyway. So we do what we do best and hunt for him.”

Jake had hoped all that supernatural shit was behind Dean and him for that matter, but now he wasn’t so sure. “You really think that some monster or demon took Dean rather than he ran into a garden variety serial killer out there?” he asked John.

“Right now I’m ruling nothing out but as this is the anniversary of the day the demon tried to kill us all I’m leaning towards the supernatural rather than him being just super unlucky.”

Jake nodded, “Okay I get that part but if it is supernatural then why Dean? Why not you or Sam? Why is it always Dean?” 

“I don’t know,” John admitted. “I haven’t worked that part out yet. Maybe it wasn’t intentional. Maybe something came here and Dean was alone, he was an easy target. Maybe it took Dean because he was the one the demon tried so hard to kill a year ago, maybe this was about finishing off what began at the warehouse, maybe it chose Dean because he isn’t a hundred percent fit yet…he’s the weakest link. I don’t know. Maybe it’s not what we think but honestly I don’t know what to think right now.”

“Okay. I see your point,” Jake replied. “So what do we do?”

“There’s not much more we can do right now. Jake why don’t you go home? We’ll contact you if we hear anything during the night. Come over again around seven in the morning. By then I’ll have a plan of action and we’ll take it from there.”

*****************************************

Although Jake didn’t want to leave Dean’s place, he couldn’t see the point of just sitting around waiting for something to happen either so reluctantly he went home. As he pulled up in the driveway of his house his neighbor, old Mrs. Iris Sandram, raced over from next door. 

“Iris what are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“I’ve been waiting for you Jake. I meant to give you this earlier but you were in and out so quickly that I missed you and well…” she handed Jake an envelope. “I promised that nice young man friend of yours, Dean is it? Anyway, I promised him that I would give it to you in person. He said it was very important so I didn’t want to go to sleep without giving it to you tonight. Sorry it’s so late dear but you’re a hard man to catch.”

Jake held the envelope tightly in his hands; he could feel that there was a card inside. While he wanted to rip it open then and there and read every last word he wasn’t about to do so with his neighbor looking on. 

“Thank you Iris I appreciate you staying up for me. Now off inside you go, it’s way too cold for you to be out here.”

“You’re so right. My arthritis is acting up again with these cold nights. Sleep well dear.”

“Night Iris.”

Jake climbed back into his truck, opened the envelope and in the dim glow from the interior light he read the note that was scrawled on the back of a postcard of the Boone County Firefighters Memorial.

  
[ ](http://photobucket.com/)   


*************************************

It was almost midnight and John, Sam and Jake just sat in the Winchester living room nursing their whiskies and wondering how they had been so blindsided by Dean’s unexpected departure.

John re-read the postcard for the hundredth time and suddenly rose and went to Dean’s room. Sam and Jake looked at each other, shrugged and followed.

“Dad?” Sam asked from the doorway of Dean’s room. “What are you doing?”

“Some hunters we are,” John stated as he gazed around him. “Look at this room. Really look at it. It’s so sparse and so different to yours Sam. You look like you’ve been there all your life. There are books on the desk, posters on the wall, clothes on the floor, shoes kicked off in a corner…it’s lived in. This room on the other hand looks like every no-star motel Dean’s ever crashed at; it’s clean but empty and totally lacking any of the touches that make a house a home. This room was simply where Dean stayed not where he lived and we missed that he was marking time here. Hell he even said he wanted to go back to hunting and yet I never thought he would.” John sat down on the bed and wondered how he got it all so terribly wrong.

For the first time Sam really looked at Dean’s room and realized that his Dad was right. The room didn’t look any different to when Dean had first moved into it and that was eight months ago. 

“Wow. I know this is what it looked like in here but I was so consumed with having a normal life, that what I saw never translated into something being wrong with Dean…well more than what I already knew I guess.” Sam felt utterly defeated by the unexpected turn in events. “You know I asked him if he was going to be okay on his own today and he said yes and I believed him. He even hugged me, said thanks for the talk. God I was so swept up in getting stuff out into the open last night that I missed how miserable he still was.”

“You’re not the only one son. I knew something was up when he told me he loved me. We’re not the Brady’s and yet I was so excited that he willing hugged me that I overlooked everything my gut was telling me and walked out that door.”

Jake listened to the exchanges with interest. “Hey enough. Stop beating yourselves up over this,” he ordered. “Now I don’t know what went down between the three of you but two things strike me from Dean’s card. One, he wanted to reassure the pair of you that he was okay and two; it wasn’t anything you said or did. So maybe take it for what it is, Dean needed space and he obviously couldn’t find it here, so he left. Considering what he’s been through I don’t see that as odd. Okay the guy could have told you what he intended to do but he didn’t, so let it go. I’m sure he’ll be back when he’s ready so stop wallowing in it and get on with your own lives.”

While it sounded like commonsense talking, deep down Jake was just as cut up and equally devastated by Dean’s departure. He thought they were friends, awesome friends and yet Dean just walked out on him, his family and…well who knows where Dean was now. Still someone had to be strong, so Jake took on that role. He would mourn the loss of his friendship with Dean in private where no-one could see his pain.

“That’s easy for you to say,” accused Sam. “You only saw him once a week. He’s my brother, Dad’s son.” I think we’re entitled to feel unhappy about this. We could have helped him, hell we tried last night but it wasn’t enough. In fact it probably made things worse.”

“Oh please. We are so not getting into the ‘I saw him more than you’ game but for the record I saw him more than once a week okay! Problem is you’re overlooking who Dean was, is. He isn’t a touchy feely guy and while he may share information he keeps his feelings well and truly hidden. While you might have thought you cleared up some stuff with that talk, it was probably wasn’t enough to stop Dean from heading out on his own. Since today was the anniversary of it all happening, do you really think he wanted to stay here having to face the memories and nightmares? That’s not who he is. He doesn’t want sympathy or pity he just wants to get on with his life and if we were all being honest about it the reality is he probably planned this a while ago and finally decided to act on it today. We’re the dumb schmucks for thinking that everything was rosy in the garden.”

John stood up and faced Jake eye to eye. “Did you have any idea he was going to do this?”

Jake held his ground. “We talked about the future; about him hunting or getting a day job. Did I know he would leave and not say goodbye? No. Do I feel stupid having run around the city trying to find him only to discover that he was long gone? Hell yes! Never in a million years did I think I wouldn’t see him today. In hindsight I should’ve realized that he wouldn’t stick around but like you I thought if he ever did leave then it was a long way off. I guess I was wrong on both accounts.”

John wasn’t satisfied, “Do you know where he’s gone?”

Jake folded his arms across his chest and replied, “Hell I didn’t even know he _was_ gone until old Iris handed me the card. So the answer is NO! We only spoke generally about what he would do if he left. It was always stuff about hunting not where he would hunt or what he would hunt. By the way you might want to tell that police friend of yours to back off. Dean’s an adult, let him live his life; he doesn’t need the law watching out for him _especially_ if he’s hunting. Again from what he’s told me and from seeing you two in action, you’re always running close to the mark to get the job done. Last thing he needs is the cops sticking their noses into things. Also instead of interrogating me about where he’s gone maybe you should consider whether he is fit enough to cope with hunting. From what I know and have seen it’s a tough gig and I’m more concerned he’s not strong enough to deal with it right now. So maybe you should reconnect with a few of your old hunting buddies John and tell ‘em to watch out for Dean. At least his own kind will know how to help him if he needs it.”

John stepped down but Jake could see the man was still upset with him so he braced for further questioning and he didn’t have to wait long. 

“Why did my son leave that card to you?”

It wasn’t the sort of question that Jake had expected. “Uhm…hell I…I don’t know!” he half stuttered. “Damn it, I can’t tell you why he left it to me. He obviously he had his reasons and until he can tell us himself, can we just move on?”

John knew Jake was right but part of him still felt there was something else going on and it irritated him. Dean had always put family first and yet now in his time of crisis he chose a stranger to confide in…or maybe the man wasn’t a stranger to Dean. 

Once more John moved into Jake’s personal space. “Are you and Dean…”

“Back off John,” Jake warned. “My relationship with Dean is none of your business.”

“My son is missing…”

“No, your son has simply left the building. Just because you don’t know where he is doesn’t mean he is missing.”

“Fine; but he left that card to you and not us, his family and he didn’t take his cellphone. Either of those things strikes you as strange friend?” John asked.

“Again…I…don’t…know…why...he…did that. The phone is easy to explain. It was out of sight and in his hurry to leave he forgot about it. As for the card, well you’ve read the damn thing. It says what it says. I don’t think there’s anything hidden or secret written there. Honestly I’m just grateful that we have it because at least we know he’s okay. Plenty of people go missing and are never seen or heard from again.”

“True but all we know is that when he wrote this he was fine and heading out of town. What happens to him from now on is anyone’s guess. Still feel good about it all?”

Of course Jake didn’t but there was little he could do about it except go with the flow. No amount of dissecting the situation would bring Dean home, only Dean could do that and he wasn’t ready yet.

“John I accept that you’re angry and you want someone to blame but I’m _not_ the enemy here. I didn’t have to bring the card over here but I did. Why?...Because he is my friend and he asked me to do it. Look man, I miss him too but instead of biting my head off how about we call a truce. If I ever hear anything I will let you know immediately and I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same for me.”

John gave a tacit nod but looked at Sam, “You’re quiet. You got anything you want to add?”

Sam seemed so down and overwhelmed. “Jake’s right. There’s no point going over it. Dean wanted time away. This is not about us, it’s about what happened to him. We owe him the time to work it out. If he comes back great, if he doesn’t…well I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” Sam turned to Jake and added. “So yeah if you do hear anything _please_ just keep us in the loop,” he asked.

Jake nodded. “I promise. Well I’m gonna get going. See you around guys. If you don’t mind I’d like to keep the card.” 

“Sure,” John somewhat reluctantly handed over the postcard. “See ya later.”

“Later,” Sam echoed.. 

However, the Winchesters doubted that they would see the man again and Jake didn’t expect to see them either …unless of course Dean contacted him or them or better still he came home, but right now neither possibility seemed likely.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 31** \- _Sometimes it's not enough to know what things mean, sometimes you have to know what things don't mean._

 

John and Sam’s hopes for a future which included Dean were shattered by the one demon they failed to exorcise…that being the memory of what happened at the cabin. However, while they moved on with their lives, Dean did the only thing he could do…he left. 

For John those first few days after Dean had gone were a blur. He was mad at Jake because Dean wrote to the firefighter instead of him; he was mad at himself for hurting Dean in the first place and then mad for not being able to help Dean get through it and he was mad at Dean for leaving and not saying goodbye…although he knew that one was irrational, he was still too mad to let go of it straight away. So in his heart he knew Dean had to do something to get over what had happened to him but right now John was just plain mad at the world because of it all and he intended to stay that way for the conceivable future.

Despite John’s current state of mind, he did manage to contact Lisa Warren and call off any police investigation, no matter how under the table it might have been. He also reluctantly did as Jake suggested and called in a few favors from some trusted hunters he knew to look out for Dean if he happened to cross their path and he imagined they would spread the word to other hunters; so at least on that front John was relieved that Dean had people watching his back if he needed it. 

The last thing he did was to go and visit Dr Jessop once the man returned from his weekend away. So the Monday after Dean left John was down in the doctor’s office informing him of what had happened and seeking advice on what he should do since Dean still needed regular medication and checkups.

And what an interesting conversation that turned out to be, because John ended up _really_ mad at Doc Jessop because it came out that the Doc knew what Dean had planned to do and yet he did not pass the information on…and so they argued over and over about everything for quite some time…

“How could you not tell me about this?” John roared.

“It’s doctor-patient privilege John. Dean’s my patient and therefore I am simply _not_ at liberty to discuss anything about his health or intentions without his express permission.”

“But you knew he was going to leave? How could you not tell me that? Do you have any idea what Sam, Jake and I have gone through? We thought Dean was dead in a ditch somewhere. We were searching Columbia for someone who was probably three states away by then and the worst thing was that you knew all along that he was safe and sound while we thought he had been abducted,” John shouted at the top of his voice while he paced back and forth in the office.

Jessop visibly braced himself before responding. “Firstly yes, I was aware that Dean planned to leave but even _I_ didn’t know _when_ he intended to head off. Secondly you mentioned when you arrived here some forty minutes ago that Dean had left you a card explaining a few things...”

“With Jake, he left it with Jake” growled John.

“Well that makes sense,” Doc Jessop replied.

“How do you figure that?”

“Dean obviously felt that he needed a head start and leaving the card for Jake meant that Jake wouldn’t get it until he finished work and so Jake would have to then inform you about what had happened. That gave Dean a few hours up his sleeve to get out of town before all hell broke loose. I don’t think he ever wanted to hurt or worry the three of you. From what you’ve told me it was just bad luck that Jake didn’t get the card when he first went home. Because if he had, you would all have known what was going on. So yes, while the three of you were panicked by Dean’s absence at least it’s was only for a few hours not a few years. That’s a good thing John. Many people never know what happened to their missing loved ones, at least you know that he left of his own accord rather than having to worry that it was another retribution attack,” Jessop stressed. 

“Believe me I’m grateful for the card but I want my son back. We need to talk…”

“John, Dean didn’t leave because you failed him. This isn’t about you or Sam or even Jake and it isn’t about who said or didn’t say something to Dean. It’s one hundred percent about Dean getting on top of things and he felt he couldn’t do that here.”

“I get that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he left and I want him back and you know where he is,” yelled John.

The doctor sat back, shook his head and laughed. “Dean knows you well John. He warned me that you would come in here like Stormin’ Norman. Why don’t you sit down and we can discuss this rationally.”

“I’d rather stand,” grumbled John.

“Fine have it your way. All I can tell you is what Dean agreed to share with you and that is for me to reassure you that he was of sound mind when he made his decision, no-one influenced him or forced him to leave, it was all his own doing. He just needed to clear his head. He said that he doesn’t want you to try and find out where he is nor does he want you going after him. He also wanted you to know that I felt he was physically fit enough to leave and that his health issues were covered. Lastly he stressed that I had to tell you that he loved you and Sam and for you to tell Jake that he was the best friend he ever had.”

“He loves me!” John was surprised. When he had said to Dean the other day that he loved him, Dean had responded that he loved John too. Such displays of emotion were rare in the Winchester world, but to have Dean say it up front and not in response to someone else was rarer still. So to hear those words even if they were secondhand was an amazing thing indeed.

Doc Jessop looked puzzled. “Why would you ever doubt that John?”

_Oh a few things cross my mind…well there’s the demon possessed rape and let’s not forget expecting Dean to raise Sammy when he was just a kid himself and dragging the boy across the country from the age of four on my vendetta and my personal favorite turning the kid into an amazing hunter who now thinks that’s all he’s capable of doing. I think there’s a few more there but those will do for starters._

Instead John replied with, “Oh you know. Poor parenting, emotional distancing, and bad cooking…you know the usual stuff.”

“John I think we’re all guilty of those things. Fatherhood is advanced citizenship. It’s hard work and you’ve done the best you could under the circumstances and to your credit you have raised two fine sons.”

John decided to change the subject from his inept and unknown to Doc Jessop, extreme parenting techniques and focus on the issues that currently troubled him, “Well what about Dean’s health, his future checkups? What about his meds and…and…other medical stuff? He’ll have to come back for those, right?” 

“Since I don’t know where Dean is, nor do I know where he is going, we agreed that he will contact me about his medications and checkups as required. I will arrange for a doctor to see him in a few months if he is still on the road in whatever location he finds himself. It’s all taken care of John so please stop stressing. This is an important part of Dean’s recovery. As a parent I know you’re worrying, that’s natural but trust me when I say your son needs to do this.”

John finally dropped down into a chair. Defeated and miserable he exclaimed, “You’re not going to tell me anything more are you?”

“No!”

“You think he’s really going be okay?” John asked.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Was he happy?”

Dr Jessop smiled, “John you could see that a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. This wasn’t an easy decision for him but I believe he made the right one.”

In his heart John knew the doctor was right but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with right now. “So I just go home and…what?”

“John, you and Sam have settled here now, it’s time to make a future. Turn your house into a home and get on with your lives.”

“I just can’t forget Dean, he’s my son. When my wife, Mary, died Dean was four and Sam just six months old. I vowed I would protect those boys…”

“…and you have John but they’re men now not boys and if Dean is ever going to come to grips with what happened last year then he needs to be out on his own. He needs to sort out who he is as a man in his own right, not as the son of John Winchester.”

That hit home for John. It was exactly what Sam had been getting at when they had ‘the talk’ with Dean the other day. It seemed everyone except John realized that he had to let go of the boys; that he couldn’t protect them forever, even if he wanted to. Part of growing up was standing on your own two feet and this was Dean’s chance to prove to John and himself that he was capable of taking care of himself.

John wearily rose from the chair and asked one last question, “Do you think I’ll ever see him again?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m a doctor not god but I hope that one day he’ll come back. He’s had a lot to deal with and he has to decide what he wants to do in the future. Maybe he will work things out sooner rather than later. There are no hard and fast rules here John but I do know that Dean will work his way through things at a pace that suits him. So let’s hope he comes back and who knows, maybe he’ll keep in contact with you all but if he doesn’t it’s not about keeping you at arm’s length, it’s about fighting the demons that walk with him every day.”

John shuddered. That’s the last thing he wanted Dean doing was fighting demons again. The inner ones were bad enough but it was crossing the path of a living, breathing spirit from hell that worried him but like everything else that had happened John couldn’t tell Jessop about those fears.

Since there was nothing more he could do about the situation John returned home. He was frustrated and worried and so he nursed more than a few bottles of _Millers_ as he mulled over what Dean’s absence meant to them all. Even the simplest questions like where was Dean or worse why did he leave caused a problem. In the end John decided he would say that Dean was on an extended holiday traveling around the country. As to when he would come home, well John hadn’t worked out an answer for that one just yet. For all he knew Dean was gone for good but he could hardly say that. So he sat there and wallowed and hoped that after a few more beers he would see things more clearly. Of course whether John’s thoughts were logical or rational was irrelevant because making decisions while looking through the bottom of a bottle was never smart but John Winchester didn’t feel like being clever right now.

Eventually, however, the fog lifted and the pain of a hangover as well as losing Dean eased a little for John. So while he mourned the loss of his eldest son, he realized that he also had to help his youngest son was also dealing with his own feelings of loss and abandonment. 

“I caused this,” Sam stated a few days after Dean had gone. “I forced him to talk and he wasn’t ready. I essentially helped him pack his bags and walk out that door.”

“I don’t think so Sam. Dean had seen Doc Jessop the day before he left and he had already decided to leave. We talked to him later that night. I think Dean just needed a break for a while, like a holiday not a ‘head off into the night don’t follow me’ escape plan and I hope that is still the case. So I don’t think our talk is what made him leave; I think it was the anniversary, the memories and the nightmares that forced his hand. He just didn’t want to be here for that day. Hell we escaped, I went to work and you went to university and let’s face it we were both relieved that he was planning to spend the day with Jake…took the heat off us right?”

Sam grunted. “Yeah! I wasn’t looking forward to that day either. I didn’t know how to act or what to say and he gave me an out by insisting I go to university.”

“I hear you loud and clear,” John agreed. "You know I’ve thought about it a lot and I just don’t think he intended to leave that day. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think he left home with the express intention of heading out of town. He didn’t pack more than an overnight bag which means when he climbed into the Impala he was just going out for the day, catching up with Jake and staying at his place that night. I really think that because Jake was on duty for some of the day, which we didn’t realize at the time and maybe Dean didn’t either, then he had a little too much time on his hands; too much time to think. Maybe things became too much for him and he decided that if he didn’t go then and there, he might never go. It just strikes me as a spur of the moment decision.” 

“Well I hope he stays in touch and I want him to come home eventually but I just don’t know if either of those things is possible after everything he has been through,” Sam admitted.

“I want the same things Sam. So we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed and be here for him if he does decide to come home.”

So after much soul searching, John and Sam eventually realized two things. Firstly, they had done all they could to help Dean considering the unique circumstances surrounding his original ordeal and Jake had been there to ease him through the outfall from the abduction and fire. However, since none of them could simply discuss those events, then Dean couldn’t easily off load his psychological trauma and consequently he had a year’s worth of built up stress and pain which gnawed on his heart and ravaged his soul. Secondly, they finally accepted that the only person who could help Dean was Dean. So while his departure had shocked and hurt them, in hindsight they understood that he had no choice and while they wanted him home, they accepted his choice to leave and wished him well wherever he was.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 32** \- _Having a great time, wish you were here._

 

Before Dean went away, John and Sam had been very content with life in Missouri but afterwards nothing seemed quite the same. Dean had left a gaping hole in their lives and they had no idea how to fill it; besides they didn’t want to replace Dean they wanted him back. So they trudged through those first few days without him, wondering about what he was doing, hoping that he would find a way through the emotional maze he was in and praying that he would come home soon so things could get back to some semblance of normal.

By the end of that first week they feared that they would never hear from him again; after all he had left without saying goodbye to them. They presumed that he wanted to start afresh somewhere where his family couldn’t find him and after what he had gone through they understood his mindset. Still, that didn’t ease their fears for him or their desire to see him come home. However, a late night knock at the door a week after Dean went part way to soothing their souls.

When John opened the front door on that cold November night the last person he expected to see standing there was Jake. 

“A bit late to come a calling isn’t it?” John remarked. 

“Well I wasn’t planning on asking _you_ out on a date so I didn’t think it would matter,” Jake responded with a cheeky grin. 

“Funny! You want something?” John was in no mood for games. It had been a hard week and seeing Jake reminded him all over again that Dean had left his parting words with the firefighter and not his family. So John had no intention of inviting the man inside; he simply wanted Jake to say what he had come to say and then leave.

Jake felt the chill in the air and it had nothing to do with the icy wind. “Okay…well…I just got off duty and found this in my mailbox,” he handed over a new postcard. “I thought you might like to read the latest news from your son.” 

“Who’s at the door?” Sam yelled from somewhere inside the house.

“It’s just Jake,” John called back.

Sam raced down the hall and skidded to a stop at the door. “You heard from Dean?” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah. It arrived today. I figured you’d both be hanging out for news so I came straight over.”

“Appreciate it man,” Sam half mumbled to Jake while he tried to read the card over his Dad’s shoulder. “Where is he?” he asked impatiently.

[](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/BCapeGirardeauMissouri-Route666.jpg)  


John looked at the postmark. “The card’s from Cape Girardeau but I doubt that he’s still there. Odd though, if you were trying to run away why go somewhere that’s only a few hours from your home? In fact why go there at all? It’s not like we ever went there; no ties to the place, no jobs, nothing,” he mused as he stared at picture on the card.

“We did!” Sam informed John. 

John arched an eyebrow at the news. 

“Dean and I did…last year.” Sam explained. “An ex-girlfriend of his was from there and she needed his help to get rid of a vengeful spirit that had killed her Dad.”

By now both John and Jake were staring at Sam. 

“What?” he asked as he looked from his Dad to Jake. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jake began, “the news that Dean actually had a relationship is a revelation from what I know about him, but then the ghost hunting thing never grows old either. So pick one because both are beyond my ability to understand.”

Sam snorted. “I know right, Dean in a relationship! Now that’s the stuff of the twilight zone. Anyway I didn’t know he had an ‘ex’ until she called and asked for his help. They met a while back when he and Dad were doing a job. He told me she’d dumped him because he was a hunter. As for hunting, well that’s the family business so…” he stated with shrug.

John was equally stunned. He had always thought Dean was from the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ school of thought but obviously he was wrong. “Back up a bit. Dean was hunting…with me and yet he found time to date? How come I didn’t know?”

“Gee I don’t know Dad! Maybe he didn’t tell you because you were too busy to care or worse you’d tell him to drop her because there’s no room for romance while hunting, right Dad?”

John winced. He knew he wasn’t the picture perfect father but it hurt to know that his sons kept things from him. Of course he expected them to keep a bucket load of secrets from other people, especially the one that they were hunters. Under no circumstances were they ever to tell a soul about what they did for a living. So to hear that Dean had actually told someone about the family business was a big deal…or it would have been if he had known about it back then.

Sam noted the mix of emotions that flitted across John’s face. “For what it’s worth she was the only relationship he’s ever had and it didn’t work out for him. Besides, you trained him well Dad, the job comes before anyone or anything…or it did up until…he got hurt…”

John shuddered at the memories. “Right so…uhm…where and when did all this relationship business take place?”

“I only know what he told me because I was at college when it happened, but he said he met her when you two did a big job in Athens, Ohio,”

“Athens, Athens,” John muttered. “I remember! We were cleaning out the old asylum. The place had been taken over by the university and was undergoing renovations which seemed to stir up all the crazy ghosts. So he actually told her…?”

“The big secret? Sure did!” 

Jake was confused. “Hello? What big secret?”

“Hunting! We’re not supposed to tell anyone,” Sam stressed.

“Well I know about it,” Jake countered.

“Yes but you were caught up in it. So it made sense to deal you in,” John patiently explained. “As a rule we get the job done, say nothing about anything to anyone and get the hell out of dodge once we’re done. Anyway enough about hunting; so Dean’s happy to share what he’s doing with us,” John noted as he reread the footnote on the card. 

Jake nodded. “Seems like it.”

Sam took the card from John. “Mind if I take a copy?” He asked Jake, although they all knew he would do it anyway.

Jake smiled, “Yeah go right ahead.” 

While Sam scurried away to photocopy the card, John and Jake were left alone. In the ensuing silence John mulled over his feelings about the situation Dean had thrust upon them all. He was more than grateful to hear from Dean but he just wished the card had come to him or Sam instead of Jake. He freely acknowledged that he was jealous that Dean seemed to favor friends over family. Still he didn’t want to rock the boat and miss out on any future communication so he tried to make the best of what he had, even if he saw it as less than ideal.

“Thanks for bringing it over,” John mumbled.

“Not a problem. I have to ask though, if Dean had sent it to you would you have shared it with me?”

“Probably not,” John honestly admitted.

“I thought so.”

“It’s nothing personal it’s just that we’ve spent way too many years keeping folks at arms’ length, so my first reaction wouldn’t have been to race over to you and share the news. I guess I need to work on that a bit.”

“Might help. Look I don’t know if there will be anymore cards but this works both ways. I have to know that you’d return the favor and stand on my door in a blizzard if you heard from him. I miss him too, okay? He’s my friend and a darn good one at that. So if you do hear anything please tell me. As it stands the communication with Dean is a little one-sided but a card here and there would be better than none at all right?”

John thought for a minute and nodded in agreement. “Can’t argue with that! So, yes I’ll keep you in the loop.” 

John held out his hand and the men shook on it. 

“You want to come in?” John belatedly asked Jake, feeling guilty now that he had made the guy stand in the cold.

“Nah I’m good. It’s late and I’ve got things to do.”

“Here you go,” Sam said as he rematerialized at the front door and thrust the card into Jake’s hand. “You coming in? Want a beer?”

“He’s got stuff to do,” John informed his somewhat animated younger son.

“Okay. Well thanks for dropping by and see you next time,” Sam replied confidently as he all but skipped off inside. 

“Hope so,” Jake called to the receding figure of Sam. He turned to John. “He’s upbeat. I guess hearing from Dean has cheered him up a little.” Jake laughed. “Wow and he actually seems happy to see me. I don’t think he’s ever been that happy to see me. There’s magic in the air.” 

“Yeah well a bit of news does a wonder. He misses his brother and I miss my son,” John admitted.

Jake simply nodded; he understood all too well. “I know. Anyway I’d better go and if I hear anything at all I’ll drop by.”

“Jake?” John called as the man walked down the front steps. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re keeping all those symbols and other stuff around I hope? You never know …” John had decked out Jake’s place with all manner of protection symbols and other tools of the trade because Dean used to go there but now it seemed just as important to protect Dean’s friend.

Jake smiled. “It’s cool John. Everything is still where you put it and the tin of salt is in the storeroom ready for use if required.”

John was both pleased and relieved. “Excellent. Well…night and thanks again.”

Jake simply nodded and disappeared into the night.

*****************************************

Dean had been gone a couple of weeks when Jake next turned up on the Winchester’s doorstep. He brought two photographs which Dean had mailed to him and was instantly ushered inside the house.

“Beer?” Sam asked as one was thrust into Jake’s hand regardless of whether he actually wanted it or not. 

“Photos? Dean sent photos?” John was surprised but pleased nonetheless.

Jake was slightly confused. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t you folks have albums full of happy snaps?”

“No we have bags full of buckshot?” Sam deadpanned.

John snorted. “Let’s just say we don’t have too many happy memories so photos are few and far between. So what does the boy have to say this time?” He mumbled as he read the note scrawled on the back of one the photographs.

[](http://photobucket.com/)

“Where is he now?” Sam asked as he bounced from foot to foot in anticipation of more news.

“Lawrence. He went home.” John showed Sam the photo of their old house. “He’s seen Missouri too. Damn, I promised I’d keep in touch with her. Have to call her soon or she’ll be on the doorstep with a hex bag,” he muttered. 

“Why am I not surprised that you never called her? Communication is _so_ not your thing Dad.” Sam raised his beer in mock salute.

“I had my reasons Sam, you know that!”

While father and son argued past transgressions, Jake picked up the second photograph, turned it so that John and Sam could see the image and said, “So new topic…Dean has a dog!”

Sam looked at John, “Dean has a dog?”

John’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t got that far,” he admitted as he continued to read the back of the photo of his old house, “…let’s see… _Ps. Meet Jack._ …and yes Dean has a dog…I’ll be damned!”

“Can I have a dog?” asked Sam.

“No.” John emphatically replied.

“Why not?” 

“Because I’d end up looking after it.”

“Really? Oh come on!” Sam snapped back. “This isn’t about a dog; it’s about you controlling our lives. When are you going to let go? I share this house too. If I had a pet, it’s my problem not yours. Stop treating me like I’m twelve.”

“See that’s why you shouldn’t have one because pets are not problems Sam, they’re friends.”

Sam faced off with John. “Then why couldn’t I have a _friend_ while we were hunting?” 

“Because…”

Jake jumped between the two men. “Stop it, okay. Back off, cool down and have another beer, both of you. Sam you need to grow up…intellectually not literally ‘cause you’re already, you know…really tall and you,” Jake looked to John. “In case you haven’t noticed he’s…how old are you anyway?” Jake asked Sam

“Twenty-four,” Sam replied.

“Yeah well he’s old enough to have a dog and you’re too old to complain about it. More to the point, this isn’t about either of you. Focus people! Think about Dean for a minute. He has a dog. Shouldn’t you be wondering why this Missouri person gave it to him or how he’s going to cope with a puppy if he stays on the road?”

John and Sam stared at each other, nodded in agreement and let it go. After all there were far more interesting things to speculate about and so over the course of the evening theories and opinions were shared as to how Dean would deal with his four-legged traveling companion, why he so willing accepted the dog in the first place and whether he would continue to write about his journey.

*****************************************

As time passed more and more postcards and photographs arrived at Jake’s place and while John had initially been resentful that Dean never sent a card to him or Sam eventually he didn’t care how he received the news as long as he got it. The cards became a life line for the Winchesters and Jake especially since they usually told them where Dean was and what he was doing and sometimes even gave a brief insight into his mood and health, but most importantly they reassured them that he was still alive and kicking.

Ultimately the constant flow of mail pointed to the fact that while Dean was gone he still wanted to keep the people that mattered to him, in his life, albeit from a distance. This eased the ache in John’s heart considerably and Sam relaxed now that Dean was but a postcard away even if they were actually separated by thousands of miles. The men accepted the one-sided communication for what it was; a way for Dean to get on top of all that had happened to him without his family hovering over him waiting for him to crash. The reality was that Dean needed to deal with his problems in his own way and in his own time and he could only achieve that if he was away from everyone. 

A side effect of Dean’s absence was Jake’s presence in the lives of John and Sam; as the postcards were always sent to Jake, then that forced him to regularly visit the Winchesters. When they first met Jake a year ago he was reluctantly tolerated because it was what Dean wanted, but since Dean left Jake had become, thanks to some clever engineering on Dean’s part, important to them as well and not just because he delivered Dean’s mail but because he had become their friend. Yes, Jake was the _messenger_ but John had long since overcome the urge to shoot said messenger and instead hauled him inside, sat him down and talked late into the night, not only about the latest news from Dean but how life was treating the firefighter. 

So as the time went by and weeks turned into months and Dean didn’t come home, the Winchesters and Jake began to plot his travels on a map and laid bets on where they thought he might stop next. Even the guys at the firehouse and John’s work began to follow Dean vicariously around the country. It was if Dean was on a long, well-deserved holiday and it never occurred to anyone that it might be permanent. Maybe that was a good thing since the Winchesters set down deeper roots in the community as they looked to the future while awaiting his return.

Getting on with their lives meant doing what _normal_ people do, like celebrating significant holidays and events. The first big occasion for John and Sam without Dean was Thanksgiving. It’s not that they didn’t want to enjoy themselves without Dean. It was more that Thanksgiving had never been a Winchester tradition, well not since they took up hunting, but now they were just average people living ordinary lives and there didn’t seem to be any reason why they shouldn’t celebrate it.

Privately though, John kind of hoped that the holiday might be reason enough to make Dean return. After all it was a time for families to come together. So he invited a few friends over for dinner and set a place for Dean just in case. However, there was no miracle at Thanksgiving as Dean never came home but Bobby came to visit, Jake was there, so too were Mary O’Brien, Lisa Talbot and even Wilson Turnbull and Dr Jessop also dropped by. 

It was Wilson’s presence that made John realize how far they had come since the accident. There was a time in the not too distance past when John would have happily throttled Turnbull but the little man had wheedled his way into their hearts by striving to ensure Dean was looked after properly and in doing so he won the admiration of John and Sam and became a family friend in the process. 

John realized how fortunate he and Sam were to have these people in their lives; to have a support network that wasn’t about ammunition and information but about love and companionship. Sadly though it also highlighted to John just how alone Dean was as he trekked aimlessly across the countryside with no-one but a puppy for companionship and so John sent a silent prayer to the man above that Dean was happy wherever he was.

A month later it was Christmas; a time that Dean loved and Sam hated. Still with a stable life and feeling very normal, Sam had a change of heart. The memories of past Christmas’ were still raw and last year leading up to the day had been a nightmare, what with Dean’s abduction and his own stint in hospital but he also remembered the tree and the presents and the sheer joy everyone shared with them and he wanted that again. So he bought home a Christmas tree and he and John decorated it with traditional decorations and the wreath on the front door was real not made from empty beer cans. To Sam it was magical and he wished Dean was there to see it. 

In fact that was all Sam and John wanted for Christmas was for Dean to come home but sadly that didn’t happen, despite their collective prayers and yuletide desires. Once again they invited friends and neighbors to drop by and just like Thanksgiving, John waited to see if his son would return for the holiday and once more his hopes were dashed but they had the next best thing; Dean had sent a Christmas card and some photos.

  
[](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/M2ChristmascardtoJohnandSam-1.jpg) [](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/M1ChristmascardtoJake.jpg) [ ](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/M5AtBobbyswithdog.jpg)  


“He looks fit, happy,” John commented as he stared at the photographs.

“Yeah he does,” Sam replied.

There just didn’t seem to be anything else to say. Dean looked well and relaxed and he was with a trusted family friend. John and Sam were pleased for him but life just wasn’t the same without him. 

So as January led into February, they tried to stay positive about Dean’s absence however, after three months the steady stream of news wasn’t enough but it was all they had.

“You know I never thought Dean knew how to write,” said John with a laugh one night as he leafed through the album Sam had created to hold the copies of the all the cards and photos.

“Dad have you seen the notes in his journal? He’s a pro; he has a good eye for detail and he researches hunts as good as you do. Besides he did go to school you know, he just didn’t see the need for _book learning_ as much as some others did.”

“You mean you?”

“Yes me. It’s no secret anyway. I loved school. Still love to learn…”

“…and that’s a good thing considering you’re intending to go into law.”

Sam smiled. “Yes it is,” he agreed.

“Wonder where Dean is now?” John mused as he looked at the map that hung on the wall. 

Each card that arrived from somewhere on Dean’s trip was marked with a colored pin on the map. The thing is, they only knew where Dean had been they never knew where he was going. John figured that his son most likely sent his meager snippets as he was heading out of town. That way they would never be able to track his movements. It saddened John no end to think that while Dean shared the trip with them, he still took measures to keep them at arm’s length.

“You know what he’s been doing right?” Sam asked.

John quirked an eyebrow. “A road trip across America with a hellhound for company in a classic car and most likely playing classic rock,” he replied with a lazy shrug.

“Wow you’ve got slow in your retirement…”

“Not retired! Simply on hiatus until I find a way to hunt and keep a day job.”

“You still want to hunt?” Sam asked mildly surprised by his Dad’s answer.

Although Sam had often heard his Dad say that he intended to occasionally hunt, John had done nothing since exorcising the servant demon over a year ago. Somehow to Sam, that lack of hunting actually meant no hunting ever again, that those days were well and truly behind them, but obviously that was not the case

John sighed. “Son my priorities have changed. Now it’s family first, then friends and work but if I hear of something going down, supernaturally I mean, then I will step in if I can without jeopardizing everything else. So it’s a balancing act and I haven’t worked out how to do it all yet, but I _am_ working on it.”

“Oh,” was all that Sam could think to reply, after all it’s not like John was asking him to go along. So Sam decided he would see how he felt about it all when it actually happened and that didn’t seem to be in the foreseeable future thankfully. “Okay so back to what I was saying. There’s a pattern here. Look at some of Dean’s destinations.” Sam pointed to the map, “After Jessica was killed and I went back on the road with Dean you used to send us coordinates; like the missing person case in Indiana, here,” he pointed to the map. “That turned out to be a Norse fertility God and here,” he tapped another pin, “that’s the haunted asylum in Rockford, Illinois you sent us to; others are places were where we went to because we wanted to keep busy while trying to find you. A lot of these places were jobs Dean and I did together and the others are places he talked about seeing one day.”

“The tourist stuff I get, but re-visiting jobs, doesn’t that strike you as weird?” 

“I don’t know Dad, it’s not like anything has ever been normal for us. Maybe he wanted to make sure that what we did on those jobs actually fixed things. Who knows what is going on in his head but if it helps him, then fine. All I know from what he’s written is that he thought he might hunt and he hasn’t seemed to find any jobs to do or at least he isn’t sharing any information on them if he has. He is looking for work and he is always cold and less than a hundred percent health wise. To be honest I’m worried. I think the constant traveling isn’t giving him the break he expected and I really don’t think that revisiting past hunts is smart. It’s living in the past not looking to the future. But the bottom line is, Dean is an adult and neither you, nor I, have the right to tell him what to do. He has to work this out on his own and I’m sure he will make the right decision when he does. I guess what we need to accept is that the right decision may not be the one we want to hear.”

John nodded in agreement. He too was worried about Dean’s deteriorating health. It wasn’t right and obviously three months on the road had taken its toll, physically at least. He honestly didn’t think Dean could keep up the pace and he wondered whether this would be the thing to cause his boy to finally come home. While it was not the best reason for coming back, it was probably the most sensible choice at least to John but Dean may not see it that way. Only time would tell but the odds are, Dean had had enough of traveling; at least John hoped that was the case.

*****************************************

**Chapter 33** \- _Courage is not the absence of despair; it is, rather, the capacity to move ahead in spite of despair._

John worried that Dean stayed on the road despite his failing health. In his mind Dean couldn't keep traveling when it was obvious from the cards that his son was tired and sick. The Dean that had been at Bobby’s for Christmas was clearly enjoying life, but this Dean? Well he seemed too weary to drag himself from place to place but kept moving anyway. Something had to change and a photo from Boston in mid-February validated John’s concerns.

[](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/VMGHMainEntrance.jpg)  


Dean’s latest card filled John with dread. Not only was Dean ill again but ill enough to seek help. He had to stop travelling because of it and perhaps the most unexpected aspect of the whole thing was that Dean had so openly and honestly shared the information with them. In some ways John didn't know this Dean at all. Candidness was not something anyone would ever have attributed to Dean. So it was strange to read words like _You know how I am when I get fatigued…_ It’s not that they didn't know how confused he became when worn-out or how hard it was for him to move around when tired, it’s just that they didn’t sit down and discuss things like that; after all they were the Winchesters, not the Brady’s.

Winchester men rarely, if ever, shared their inner thoughts and feelings unless it was about a hunt, or involved tactics and weaponry; but here was Dean talking about how he felt as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course John was pleased that Dean was so transparent, it’s just that it is so different and in another time and place such a dramatic change of behavior would have indicated to John that his son was possessed. So the man now writing to them would take a bit of getting used to but then in some respects this is what Dean’s road trip was all about, getting to know himself in a more positive light and getting on top of the swirl of emotions that had troubled him for a long time. 

Aside from his surprise at Dean’s frankness, the more John read the card the more uneasy he became. Dean’s health worried John greatly but his son’s decision to stay put on the East Coast sent a chill through him because it meant that Dean wasn’t coming home anytime soon. What’s worse, Dean wasn’t going to hole up in Boston; he was going to travel north to Maine. Admittedly Maine was just a few hours north of Boston but Dean still needed to find a place to stay and it was damn cold up there at this time of year. John accepted that Dean didn’t want to stay in Boston because he knew how much Dean hated big cities, but what John couldn’t understand was why he chose to head further north. It would have been more practical to get in the damn car and drive home. It would’ve taken him two days max…okay three if he took it easy, but either way it would be better for him to be back in Missouri, resting at home and having Doc Jessop look after him rather than freezing his already cold butt off a hair’s breadth south of Canada. 

So John slowly worked himself into a rage over the whole thing and by the time he was done he had come to the conclusion that Dean’s decision to continue to move further away from home despite his failing health, proved that Dean wanted to keep his family at arm’s length and then some. Worse still, John believed that if Dean had really dealt with the fallout from that night in the cabin while he was on the road, then the current situation should have been enough to send him home. However Dean was doing the exact opposite, going further away and that meant he was still avoiding having to deal with it, and them. 

“I knew he wouldn’t come home,” John ranted as he paced back and forth.

Sam just rolled his eyes and continued to read his book. His Dad’s outbursts about Dean’s current situation were something he heard a lot lately. “Maybe he _wants_ to stay on the road; finish his trip.”

“BUT HE’S ILL!” shouted John.

Sam put down the book and just stared at his father. “Dad calm down. You’ll have a stroke if you keep this up. Dean’s an adult. He can make up his own mind about what he does and when he does it. Besides if he was really ill he’d be in the hospital and he’s not. Obviously he’s feeling less than fantastic right now and yes, he needs to stop moving for a while but that does not mean he is deliberately choosing to stay away from us. It means just what he said, that he’s sick and needs to stay in one place long enough to get on top of things.”

“Then why go to Maine? Why not stay in Boston?”

“Come on Dad, you know as well as I do that Dean hates cities. Of course he would head to somewhere a little quieter.”

“I know, but if he is sick, staying close to the hospital would be smart.”

“Actually he said he was told to stop moving for a while and then come back for a check-up in a month. He needs rest and for him resting in a cut-rate motel in a small town would be preferable to a crappy motel somewhere on the I-95 in Boston. It makes sense Dad.”

John sighed. The whole situation was getting to him; Dean being away, being sick and the damn cards going to the Jake, it was too much. Still he knew he had no choice but to deal with it and that’s what he hated the most, because John Winchester liked choices and Dean had left him none. 

“You’re right I suppose. It's…I just want him back.”

“I know Dad; so do I.”

“You’re my boys. I worry. It wouldn’t matter if you were five or fifty you will always be my boys and while I’m not the ideal parent, I still care big time. So yeah, right now I’m a little concerned.”

“I do understand Dad, but Dean is fine and he needs to do this. Anyway, look on the bright side, he’s told us every time he’s been ill, he’s reassured us about seeing doctors, he’s taking his meds and hell, the mere fact that he sends us regular updates should tell you that he _wants_ us in his life. Give him time he’ll come around.”

*****************************************

John tried to remain positive about the situation but by the time he received the next card a few weeks later his fears escalated.

  
[ ](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/WCurtisPointLighthouse.jpg)   


“He’s in Camden, Maine! We can go there! Talk to him! Convince him to…”

“Dad enough,” yelled Sam. “We are _not_ going to Maine. Don’t you see? If Dean is comfortable enough to tell us where he is, rather than where he’s been, then he trusts us enough to leave him alone. Knowing where he is, is huge. I think we can assume that maybe he is resolving some of his issues. So let’s not screw everything up by landing in his town uninvited and unannounced okay?” 

“I hear you Sam but…”

“No buts, no ifs, no road trip. You have a job and I have school and Dean is doing what he wants to for a change so leave him alone…please!”

However, six weeks later with no news from Dean, even Sam began to worry and John was ready to pull out all stops to find Dean. After all, Camden wasn’t that big a place and someone must have seen a good-looking twenty-something guy driving a '67 Chevy Impala while fighting off a puppy.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Sam yelled as John stormed past him one evening heading for his truck.”

“Going to Jake’s.”

“Why?”

“Need to talk to him.”

Sam knew that was not a good sign. “Wait for me,” he called out as he raced after John.

Sam knew exactly what this was about but he could also see that his Dad was in no mood to listen to reason. Still he tried to stop things before they got too out of hand.

“Dad Dean stopped writing and that’s not Jake’s fault,” he reminded John.

“We’ll see,” growled John.

John had barely turned the car off before he was out and ringing Jake's doorbell.

As Jake opened the door John threw a punch causing the firefighter to reel backwards in surprise crashing into a hall table in the process.

“What the fuck was that for?” Jake yelled as he cradled his stinging cheek.

“Have you heard from him?”

“Who? Dean?”

“How many pen pals do you have? Of course Dean!”

“Dad, back off,” pleaded Sam as he pushed passed his Dad to help the man stand. “This is not Jake’s…”

“Sam I don’t want to hear it,” John snapped before turning his full wrath Jake’s way. “Dean chose you over family when he sent that first card to you. Why shouldn’t I think he would talk to you and not us? It’s been six weeks and nothing. For the first three months he was away he sent over twenty cards, photographs and even Christmas cards and we barely do Christmas let alone send season’s greetings to one another. For a while there we had two or three cards arriving every week and suddenly it all stops. Doesn’t it strike you as a little strange? So my question is, has he stopped writing altogether or is he still writing to you and you’re not sharing?”

“God do you know how jealous you sound and to answer your question no I haven’t heard from him. Anyway, why are you attacking me? I’m just the messenger! If you’ve got an issue with how the news is delivered then take it up with Dean.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?”

“Well you could always hunt him down but personally I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you ask Doc Jessop? He obviously communicates with Dean. Maybe he’ll pass on a message, hell maybe he knows why Dean hasn’t written. Then again if anything bad had happened I think the good doc would have told you, don’t you?”

John backed down, “Sorry,” he mumbled ashamed that he had let his emotions run rampant and frustrated that he hadn’t thought to talk to Jessop in the first place. After all, Dean had gone to the man about his decision to leave and it was Jessop who had arranged medical check-ups along the way. The man clearly had open lines of communication with Dean.

So while John now felt defeated by the state of affairs, Jake was hopping mad. 

“Where the hell do you get off coming into my home and hitting me? I told you months ago that if I received something, _anything_ , from Dean then I would bring it over to you. Remember John?”

John shrugged half-heartedly.

“So twenty-four seven I haul _my_ ass to _your_ door with news from _your_ son. Do I mind? NO! He’s _my_ friend. Am I worried about him? You bet your ass! But am I attacking you because we haven’t heard from him? NO! You’re unbelievable and sometimes I wonder why either of your boys didn’t try to kill you in your sleep. Did you ever wonder why he sent the cards to me? I have, and my best guess is that he knew that if you got them first then you wouldn’t have shared them with me. So he came up with this damn scheme to make us communicate and I thought we were doing okay, until now." Jake cradled his now bruised cheek and muttered, "Damn my face hurts.” 

“I hear ya,” John replied tiredly. “But think about it from my side for a minute. Dean has always confided in you and yet before he met you, he never talked about anything to anyone, none of us did. By the way that’s a hunter thing not just a Winchester trait. So Dean never had friends and as I discovered a while back, only one relationship which is one more than I thought by the way; we rarely talked to other hunters, hell we didn’t even talk much to each other. So normally he wouldn’t talk about jack squat to anyone and then suddenly you’re on the scene and you two are BFFs. It’s strange and down right out of character, but hey after what Dean’s been through I try to go with it. If it’s what he wants and needs then okay we’ll let you into our world. Then out of the blue he disappears and low and behold starts sending _wish you were here_ cards to his pal and not his family. So yeah, I do wonder whether you’re being selective in what you share.”

Sam had had enough. He had long since gotten over his jealousy of Jake and he’d thought his Dad had accepted the man too, but obviously the situation with the mail hurt John more than he’d realized. 

“Back off Dad,” Sam shouted. “Does it really matter that much who Dean sends the cards to, as long as we get them? Anyway Jake has been honest with us," he said as he turned to face Jake "right man? You’ve shared everything Dean’s sent through haven’t you?”

“Yes I have and trust me if I had something going on with Dean, some secret tryst, then don’t you think I’d be high-tailing it off to meet him in a hush-hush location? Do you think I would have stayed here with you guys when I could have been off with Dean seeing the sights of…hell I don’t know the Toledo Zoo, let alone spending all the holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day with him…need I go on? Look Dean and I are friends, good ones and yes we’re tight, but he walked out on me too. John don’t you get it? What you read is what I get, nothing more and nothing less. I don’t get love letters in the sand or special cards just for me. I know what you know and probably a sight less since most of the cards are about shit you guys did together. So why can’t you just accept the situation for what it is?”

“And what would that be?” asked John. 

“Less than fucking ideal but it’s all we have,” grumbled Jake as he headed to the kitchen to find a cold pack for his face. “You’re a dick John.” He called to the man who followed him down the hall. “You know that right? Frankly I’m surprised that your kids turned out as good as they did. I’m guessing they’re genetically more like their Mom and she must have been awesome because…well you’re not.”

“Wait you think I’m awesome?” Sam asked happily.

“If the shoe fits big guy just don’t get carried away okay?” Jake replied as handed the men a beer each, grabbed one for himself and an icepack for his bruised cheek. “Damn John you have to learn to ask questions first. I know that in your world shooting first has its advantages, but in this world it might lead to a prison sentence or a lawsuit. Next time take a chill pill, second thoughts make sure there is no next time!”

“Sorry I…you know…for the punch,” John reluctantly conceded. “But it’s been six weeks since we’ve heard anything. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Sure it does but it’s not over till it’s over,” Jake replied. 

John was confused. “What do you mean?” 

“He means that until Dean says otherwise we should stay positive,” Sam explained even though he was also feeling the strain from the lack of communication. 

John shook his head. “That’s it? Just sit around and wait? So you’re both okay with not knowing if he is dead or alive? Doesn’t it bother you that he may never come back? That we might never see him again? 

“Come on Dad, of course it does but what else can we do?” Sam’s voice was shrill as he tried to explain it to his Dad. “Look we’ve talked about this before. We can’t hunt him down; can’t call him; Doc Jessop won’t tell us anything except if he’s dead or alive; what else can we do except wait it out?”

“Sam’s right John,” Jake said as he took a swig of beer. “Like it or not, Dean left because he needed time to himself. Therefore he’s going to do what he wants when he wants and it’s not our place to try and convince him to come home. Look at it this way, he kept us informed of his every move and he didn’t have to and now something in his life has changed and he stopped writing but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to communicate, it simply means that right now for whatever reason he can’t.”

John thought over what the two men had just said. “Actually there is something we can do. Jake hinted at it earlier…we can write to Dean. Give the letter to Jessop to send to him and Dean can act on it if he wants to.”

“I don’t know Dad, I’d feel like I was intruding. What would we say _why haven’t you written_ or _come home._ Not a lot we can say really and asking how his trip is going is kind of stupid since we already know he is sick and staying in Maine. He left for a reason and since he hasn’t come home yet, I guess he is still sorting through his problems and he really doesn’t need us poking him albeit from afar. Besides I would hate for him to shut down the only line of communication we have open to us via Doc Jessop because he felt we were getting pushy.”

John sat down dejectedly. Sam and Jake were right he needed to leave Dean alone but the endless waiting for news was hard. The not knowing if he was alright was downright agonizing and the fear that something had happened or would happen to Dean was always bubbling just below the surface. Still for now John decided to swallow his fears and wait it out but he wasn’t sure he could take it for much longer.

*****************************************

A day or two after the incident at Jake’s place a card arrived from Dean saying he was doing much better and that he would need to see the doctor in Boston again in three months’ time. After much discussion on when Dean had actually seen the doctor and when the card was sent, the three men estimated that he would probably be back in Boston sometime in early June, so they knew that Dean wasn’t going anywhere until after that visit. 

The days passed into weeks and by mid-June another card arrived. What they had hoped would be an _I have the all clear from the doc and I am coming home_ card, in fact said quite the opposite much to their initial horror.

  
[ ](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v206/China_Rose2/Deans_Postcards/XCamdenMaine.jpg)   


It took a number of reads before John finally understood that Dean was doing okay. Life was now very different for Dean. He had a dog, an apartment and a real job. Hell Dean himself wrote _don’t know how long I’ll stay here but I’m happy_ and that was the crux of it. John wanted Dean to be happy. He wanted his son to find some peace in himself and with the world and if staying in Maine was helping him accomplish that, then he wasn’t about to start harassing the boy. However, it did make it hard for John and the others to just wait for tidbits of information to trickle from Maine to Missouri.

One afternoon in late summer the three men sat lazily on the Winchester porch and discussed the latest news from Dean as they shared a drink or two. 

“Can’t imagine Dean working on a boat,” mused Sam.

John nodded. “Nor can I.”

“What he doesn’t like boats?” Jake asked.

Sam snorted. “The guy loves cars. He doesn’t fly and avoids boats if he can. So yeah, it’s odd but then I guess he needed the money.”

“He’s possessed,” John remarked with a wry smile.

Sam laughed, “No he’s not and you know it.”

“You don’t think…” Jake started.

“No he doesn’t,” Sam assured the fireman.

John shrugged, “Well I do know he’s different, but possessed? Okay I don’t think he’s possessed but sometimes it’s easier to blame the changes on the supernatural than on Dean doing…”

“Normal stuff?” Sam finished for his Dad.

“Yeah. Dean’s been a hunter all his life and yet here he is working on a fishing boat, looking after a pet and keeping house. It’s so weird.”

“Dad I’ve hunted all my life too but I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up. Heck I had a girlfriend and an apartment once too. Life was mundane and wonderful and I missed it every day until we moved into this house and began to do normal things like take out the garbage.”

“Dude you must be the only person on the planet that gets excited by garbage,” teased Jake as he nursed a scotch. “So you think he’s going to be okay?”

Sam shrugged, “I think Dean has finally found his normal life, found something that doesn’t ask him to sacrifice everything. Maybe this is what he was looking for when he left but it took a while for him to find it, to be comfortable with it. Yeah it sucks that he doesn’t write much but as he said, he’s busy and for us not to stress; so maybe we should do just that. Don’t stress it and thank god that he’s happy.”

*****************************************

Despite Sam’s suggestion to not stress over the situation, as the weeks dragged on, Dean’s continued absence and meager communications frustrated the three men. Indeed, more than once they hoped that Dean had simply picked up seasonal work and that once the tourists left and the weather turned cold then he would leave Maine. However a card in mid-August stated that he was still working hard and enjoying life. So while happy for Dean, these were dark days for them all as they finally accepted that he was well and truly settled in Maine.

By early October, after months with no contact and with the one year anniversary of when Dean left but a few weeks away, the prospect of future without him in it seemed a reality. They had fought so hard to keep him alive and yet he wasn’t there to share the victory. In some ways they had won the war and lost the peace. He was gone and there was nothing any of them could do to change that.

*****************************************

**Chapter 34** \- _Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect._

 

Dean looked out the window of his apartment. It wasn’t the greatest of days but he was happy to have some time off. The weather had turned bad and the boats were staying in port for the next few days at least until the gale eased. So he donned his jacket, checked that his gloves and beanie were in his pockets where he had left them, and grabbed Jack’s leash off the hook near the front door. 

“Jack? Come on, walk time!” he informed the dog who seemed more interested in rolling around the floor in front of the fire than braving the elements outside. “Jack,” he called again showing the dog the leash.

Jack sat up, cocked his head to the side and did the puppy version of a pout before turning his back on Dean and settling down on the rug in front of the fire to sleep.

“Dude you have to go now, so move!” Dean commanded, but Jack seemed intent on staying put. So Dean tried a more conciliatory tone. “Come on Jack I know it’s cold but how about we go out, you do your thing, I get supplies and we come home, settle in and watch something on the television? Sounds like a plan…right…buddy…pal?”

Jack lazily rolled his head back to look at Dean, yawned and went back to sleep.

“Not funny,” grumbled Dean but he had to admit the dog was right it was too cold to go out but Dean needed a few things from the store and as it was walking distance the Impala would also stay nice and dry in the garage. “Amazing, my car and dog are cozy at home while I freeze my balls off for the sake of bread, milk and pie.” Dean muttered as he put the leash back on the hook, put on his beanie and pulled on his gloves. “Right, I’m going. This is your last chance to find the perfect tree? No? Well just hold it until I get back okay!” He told his utterly disinterested dog.

Dean made his way slowly down the street through the icy rain and relentless wind. Very few people were out and about; most were at home or at least indoors. It was only people like him, the hungry and desperate and a few diehard tourists that braved the storm to venture out.

Dean dived into the small grocery store and brushed the water off his jacket. 

Sue, the middle-aged checkout lady brightened at the sight of him. “Dean! It’s a bit cold. You’d be better indoors than out today,” she said.

“I agree Sue but sometimes you just have to eat, so here I am.” He looked around the empty store, “Business a bit slow today?”

“Sure is. In this sort of weather people like to snuggle down at home rather than shop,” she stated. “So anything I can help you with?” she asked hopefully.

“Got it covered Sue,” he yelled as he raced up and down the aisles collecting his groceries. “Just needed a few things to tide me over,” he explained as he unceremoniously dumped the goods at the checkout in front of her. 

“Hardly food for a feast,” She noted as she packed his groceries into a bag.

Since Dean had no idea what she was talking about he simply said, “Huh?” 

“Thanksgiving,” She replied patiently.

“Thanksgiving?” 

“Yes dear, don’t they celebrate Thanksgiving in Texas?” She asked.

“I’m from Kansas…originally, and yes, people celebrate it there but my family, well, we kept it low key,” he said hoping to head off any further questions about his past. 

Thanksgiving was not a huge deal in his world. In fact he could barely recall a time when his family had celebrated it. That’s what was so weird when Bobby told him that his Dad and Sam had actually organized a Thanksgiving dinner. If Bobby hadn’t been there and seen it with his own eyes and swore that everyone had a great day, then Dean would’ve said his family was possessed.

So while Thanksgiving was not something on his radar, avoiding giving people too much information about his past was. It’s not that he actively tried to hide who he was; he just didn’t feel like overloading people with details about why he had come to Maine and that he had essentially run away from home, albeit at the age of twenty-eight. So he always told anyone that asked about his pre-Maine life, that he was on a working holiday and basically that’s exactly what he was doing; working on a lobster boat to pay for his current lifestyle. 

Dean’s life had changed dramatically since he left home and inherited a puppy. Once upon a time he would have enjoyed spending every day and night in the bar playing pool. Not anymore, these days life was more pedestrian. Between being out on the boat for days at a time, raising a “hell hound” and playing house, he was either dead tired or flat out. Still he liked it this way, it was uncomplicated and while his job was dangerous, especially if the seas were treacherous, overall it was a lot easier to do than fighting some supernatural, hyped up ghost or anything else otherworldly that’s out there. At sea every day was different, but his job was manageable unlike hunting where every day was deadly and some days he barely managed to stay alive. So for the time being he wanted this life, it gave him an adrenaline rush without the constant fear of injury or death.

Anyway, after the last few years Dean felt he was entitled to a bit of R&R. Maine was heaven and he much preferred being a suburbanite to being a nomadic hunter. Life was good; he had an awesome job, good pay and was well respected by those that knew him, so he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

However, Dean still felt a twinge of guilt every now and then about not seeing his family and Jake. It wasn’t like he intentionally kept them away; it’s just that every time he resolved to write them a _hey come visit me. Here’s my address_ letter, he’d arrive home from days at sea and crash. So the weeks dragged out to months and in the end a year had come and gone since he had seen them and…well maybe he’d go home for Christmas, surprise them, maybe… 

“Dean? Dean you okay? You zoned out there.”

Sue’s worried voice penetrated his musings and he gave her one of his winning grins. “Just basking in the warmth of your smile Sue,” he quickly answered. 

“Oh you cheeky devil,” she replied as a blush reddened her cheeks.

“Take it easy Sue. They say the worst is yet to come,” he told the woman as he picked up the bag of groceries and headed to the door.

Just as he was about to open the door Sue called after him. “Dean I almost forgot. Marcie from the post office said that if I saw you to tell you she has mail at the post office.”

“Well I hope Marcie has mail or she’d be out of a job!” He replied with a laugh.

It took Sue a minute before then she got the joke. “You clown,” she laughed. “Go see Marcie honey she has mail for you.”

Dean smiled but inwardly groaned. He mustered his most grateful look and replied, “Thanks Sue I’ll go get it now.”

“Good boy,” she called back as she watched him rush out into the cold.

*****************************************

Dean was so close to his apartment but now he had to trudge up the hill in the budding perfect storm to get another letter from Jessop. He was half tempted to leave it there until, oh, next year, but he knew if he didn’t go and collect it he would be harassed by every local between here and the Canadian border. Small towns do have their drawbacks sometimes like when they discuss the ins and outs, as well as the who, what, where and when of everyone’s life. 

_Best keep the gossip to a minimum,_ he thought as he fought the wind with every step. _Besides I don’t have to read it straight away,_ he reasoned.

So Dean made his way to the post office to collect his mail, all the while muttering under his breath about doctors don’t know everything and how he was more than capable of running his own life. That’s not to say he didn’t appreciate all that Doc Jessop had done for him, but after all this time he finally felt great; he was emotionally stable and physically strong. So he kind of wished that he didn’t have to be reminded of what happened to him and the consequences of it when the Doc wrote about him having continued check-ups and watching out for depression, anxiety and other psycho-type mindbenders. Hell, the only time he seemed to have a nightmare now was when he got one of the Doc’s letters because they brought all that mental shrapnel to the fore. Still he knew the guy was just looking out for him so he accepted the advice albeit reluctantly. 

Dean knew he owed the man his life so he wasn’t about to tell the Doc to back-off. However, he did write to him recently explaining that he was mentally and emotionally solid. So hopefully this new letter would be filled with sunshine and lollipops, not reminders of the dark days he left behind in Missouri when he awoke from his “walking coma” in a parking lot while being beaten by a demon and a deadbeat. 

He vividly remembered how he felt back then; how the abduction, fire and being so ill caused him so much grief, let alone coming to grips with having been raped and having his family turning into the Waltons. Maybe if his Dad and Sam hadn’t been so different when he woke up, so touchy-feely, he wouldn’t have felt so isolated and confused. Everything was different back then and he had spent so much time trying to catch up and keep up but he got through it eventually and now he was a happy, well-adjusted almost thirty-something young man…at least he thought so and that’s what counted. 

He chuckled as he thought about how different he was now to the guy who felt he had no option but to flee in the night and put as much distance as he could between himself and the personal demons that plagued him. The problem was that although Dean had come to grips with quite a few things about that night at the cabin and what had followed, his family didn’t seem to accept that he was capable of sorting those things out by himself. So their constant pushing for him to talk about it actually hindered his ability to put it all behind him. 

Back then Dean hadn’t reached the point where he could talk about how he was doing. He didn’t want to trade secrets, share fears or bond over trauma. So instead of letting Sam and John get it out their system by talking though their worries for him, he had shut down the dialogue. Of course that made them feel like they had failed him; that he was on the verge of a meltdown and that they had to save him because on a cold November night in a backwoods cabin they hadn’t been able to help him. So unfortunately they kept trying to resolve something Dean had already come to terms with. 

It was the constant reminder that he was a victim, that he had been dealt a shitty hand in life that got to him…the way they treated him with kid gloves, the arguments when he tried to break free and do his own thing, the sad looks for _poor Dean_ and the furtive glances to see if he was coping, always hovering to pick him up if he fell, both mentally and physically. He didn’t blame them for caring and he understood that it would’ve seemed hard to imagine that he, Dean Winchester, the master of not dealing with the crap in his life, had sorted out how he felt about it all. Yes he was rocked to the core by the rape but to him it was so clear that the demon did it and not his Dad. There’s no denying that the rape and having his family see it was horrific but as a hunter he knew that sometimes you got hurt on a job. He had gone into that hunt with his eyes wide open and he knew the chances of any of them surviving that night were slim but they did survive it; bloodied and bruised yes but not beaten. 

The way Dean saw it was that he’d be damned if he let that one moment in time determine his future. If he did then evil won and he hadn’t given up his Mom, his childhood and endured over twenty years on the road to let that happen. So he either gave in or moved forward and he chose the latter. It was that simple, that black and white, and in making the choice he found a way to cope. It wasn’t easy nor was it foolproof but it was something for him to hold on too when things overwhelmed him. 

The only problem was his family was so overcome with guilt that they didn’t understand when he said he was actually okay considering what he had been through because in their eyes he was an emotional wreck. For Dean however, it was the ultimate catch 22. The more John and Sam talked about it, the more he denied that he had a problem but when he went to sleep it bubbled to the surface in horrific technicolor dreams which then validated his family’s concerns for his mental state. So he ended up on an emotional roller coaster and continued healing became almost impossible because of his family’s well-intentioned but misplaced concerns.

Part of him wished he had just let them talk. It would have cleared the air and maybe he wouldn’t have left home; but the other part of him had no regrets for hitting the road. He missed them though, for better or worse they were his kin and he missed Jake too. He had never had a friend before and except for his family, he’d never met anyone he trusted like he trusted Jake. The man was his rock. Only once had Jake confronted him about what had happened to him. They talked it through and although Dean left out the part where his possessed Dad had hurt him, Jake was satisfied with his answers so the subject was dropped, which pleased Dean no end. As the months passed whenever Dean had a bad day, and boy there were plenty, Jake gave him a safe place to hang out when he felt emotionally battered. When he had nightmares Jake cleaned him up, calmed him down and never judged or commented. He stood strong and let Dean cling to him even when Dean didn’t realize he was doing it. 

Dean remembered how he felt a year ago when the first anniversary of it all going down approached. He had begun to feel trapped and in the end even Jake’s steadfastness wasn’t enough to stop him from leaving. He knew he might lose Jake because of it, but he had no choice, he had to go or he would have cracked and that wasn’t an option. 

In a way that first card that he left behind was his way of saying _this is my problem. I’m sorry to leave you this way but I have to do this_ but he wasn’t sure that they would understand his reasons or forgive him for going. He hadn’t really intended to send cards at all, it was just after he left the first one he thought it might be wise to send one each time as he was leaving a place to reassure them that he was okay but also to ensure they wouldn’t try and find him. So it became habit to share his travels but more importantly it felt good to do it.

Anyway he was sure his Dad would have blown a gasket by now because he had sent all the cards to Jake. However, Dean figured that if his Dad got them first then Jake would have been pushed aside and he didn’t want to lose Jake’s friendship. So by making Jake take the cards to his family, which he knew the guy would do, it then forced the three men to communicate even if it was on a basic level. Dean hoped that they would at least find some common ground even if it meant they griped about how terrible he was for abandoning them, which oddly enough was the one thing he had always felt had happened to him. It was only now as he headed to the post office that Dean wondered if maybe the reason he never got around to inviting them up north, was that he was afraid that they hadn’t forgiven him for leaving. He couldn’t bare it if they rejected him, not now. After all he had gone through, that was the one thing he couldn’t face so he avoided it instead. Keeping them at bay was like a mental health checkpoint and he hadn’t even realized he had done it. Which meant maybe he wouldn’t actually go home for Christmas because he would want that time to be happy not filled with arguments and rejection. 

Dean shook his head and sighed; he had screwed up, at least he thought he had and it would take a while for him to figure out how to fix what he had done or if indeed he had done anything wrong at all. Right now he was so confused but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He needed to get the letter and get home before Jack pissed all over the floor. The last thing he wanted to do was clean up after his headstrong, weak bladder puppy.

*****************************************

Dean collected his letter and from the writing on the front of the envelope knew that it was from the good doctor. He shoved it in his pocket, thanked Marcie for passing the word around Maine that he had mail and headed home. 

He was greeted at the door of his apartment by Jack who was by now desperate to go find a tree.

“You’d never make a hunter,” he told the puppy as he took it outside. “You have to expect the unexpected. You and I thought I would be gone a few minutes and see what happened? I had to go to the post office and that left you’re sitting at home crossing all four legs. Rule No.1 never put anything off and rule No.2 always expect the unexpected. That way you have covered all your bases. So you remember that and you will do just fine.”

In no time at all they were back inside and Dean cast aside his jacket and flopped down in front of the television to catch up on some of his favorite day-time soaps. It wasn’t until much later in the evening that he remembered the letter.

“Better get this over with,” he grumbled as he retrieved the bulky letter from his jacket and returned to the sofa. Doc Jessop always sent a bundle of stuff to Dean like pamphlets on anemia or tips on improving your lung capacity, reminders for flu shots, warnings about the danger of pneumonia and…well he tried to include anything that might be of use in helping Dean return to full health. Dean appreciated it but sometimes it was overwhelming especially if it was to do with mental health. Those sorts of papers usually accompanied a letter about depression and post-traumatic stress. He truly hoped today’s letter had none of that in it.

Jack joined him on the sofa, head resting on Dean’s thigh and eyes wide open as if he knew that tonight would be a hard night for his master and he wanted to give moral support.

“Okay let’s get this over with,” he told Jack as he patted the puppy on the head. 

He carefully opened the envelope and shook out the contents sifting through the bundle of bits and pieces until he found the Doc’s letter.

He read the letter aloud, 

_Dear Dean,_

I hope this finds you well. I heard from Dr Lucas at MGH that you’ve exceeded his expectations. Congratulations, I would say from your last test results that you are almost a hundred percent recovered but you already know that since you have been doing some pretty tough work on the boats. I think you’ll know when you’re doing it tough so just remember to give yourself time to rest. What is it you call them? That’s right, R&R. Just make sure you give yourself plenty of rest and recuperation or you will find yourself just as susceptible to colds and flus as you did last winter.

Now enough lectures from me. You family is doing fine and in fact I have enclosed a letter from your father…

He stopped reading, threw the doctor’s letter aside and began rummaging through the assorted papers until he located his Dad’s letter. Jack looked up in surprise but stayed close.

Dean braced himself for what it said; afraid that he had been cut loose or worse finding out something had happened to his Dad or Sam or….he had a sudden panic that Jake was hurt. After all Jake did work in a risky occupation and Dean had seen firsthand how quickly things can get out of control in a fire.

He clutched the letter, took a deep breath, carefully unfolded the pages and silently began to read it…

_Hello Son,_

I suppose you’re wondering why I’m writing to you. By the time you get this you would have been gone a year and…well I just figured it was a good time to say hi and let you know what’s happening back in ole Missouri. So I contacted Doc Jessop and asked if he would mind forwarding this to you. He said he would be happy to, so…here it is. 

Now I admit up front letter writing is not my strong suit so don’t expect too much okay? In fact my writing is pretty bad period. You’ve seen my journal right? It needs decoding before you can read it. So I typed this on my new laptop (yeah I finally got one) so it should be readable at least.

Well where to begin. So yeah it’s almost a year since I last saw you and much has happened since you left. We kept track of how you were doing through the cards but mail has been a bit slow since you started work, but we understand. I hope you are well now, I expect you are since you’re out on the boat. That’s tough work son, I watch _Deadliest Catch_ so I have a fair idea the sort of stuff you might do when out at sea. Have to say though, of all the jobs I thought you might do, lobster fishing was not one of them. It’s an interesting job and I’m happy you’re enjoying it. 

You know I took you boys to Maine when you were little; had a job at the Owls Head lighthouse down Rockland way. That’s about thirty minutes south of you I think. Anyway we had lobster for lunch one day. You boys loved it. You still eat it now?

“Do I still eat it?” Dean muttered. “Dad everyone eats lobster in Maine. The lobsters even eat lobster.”

_Anyway I’ve just finished mowing the lawns. Once the spring came well the grass grew too quick and needed mowing weekly. I couldn’t keep borrowing Jake’s and so I bought one for us and now I mow every Saturday. See last year it wasn’t a problem because the grass had been seeded but hadn’t really grown. You should see it now, mighty fine if I do say so. It’s good exercise for me and doesn’t take long. Anyway, today I was thinking what would I do this afternoon once I did the lawn? Sam and Jake are working and I thought it’s probably about time I wrote you. So I sat down in the study…remember that end room which we kind of used for storage? Well we turned that into a small study. It has a bed in it too so if Bobby comes to visit or Jake wants to stay over then they have somewhere to put their head._

So what else is happening with us? Well Sam’s doing great. He misses you of course but he loves being able to study and can’t wait to be a lawyer. He still lives at home, jogs every day and studies around the clock. He’s doing law at Mizzou and works at the campus library for spare cash. I don’t know whether he contacted the girl you mentioned in the card from New Paltz, New York. Sarah is it? Sam always was a bit quiet when it came to that sort of thing, though he couldn’t keep the smile of his face when he read that she still seemed to like him. She sounds like a nice girl.

Actually I had to laugh though when I found out that you had once told a girl about the family business and then I found out that Sam had done the same with this girl. So much for my _never share the secret_ rule. Anyway I’m sorry your girl dumped you because of it son. She missed out on having a good man in her life but maybe there’s hope for Sam and Sarah if he does end up talking to her again. So fingers crossed. 

Sam and I get on pretty good. Look I’ll be honest we still clash at times but we deal and trust me, it’s nothing like what it was when we were on the road. Thank God those days are behind us. I think we’ve both mellowed since then after all, he is twenty five and I’m…let’s just say I’m older. So on the whole, things are okay with us. Though we had a bit of a spat when Sam found out you had a dog. You see he decided if you had one then he wanted one too and I said no. Jake resolved it for us. It went something like this…Sam was old enough to have a dog and I was too old to complain about it; he told us to have another beer and shut up. So we did. By the way Sam didn’t get a dog. He realized he was way too busy to look after one and that was that. No pet for us just yet.

In case you’re wondering we haven’t done any hunting. It’s been almost two years now. Bobby can’t believe it but honestly there just hasn’t been time. Between work and running a home well I simply don’t have time to go away every other weekend to hunt. You know what it’s like; jobs happen all over the country and right now if I do decide to do a job it would just about need to be in my backyard as I can’t afford that much time away. Sam and I talked about it a while back. He doesn’t care for the life; hey no surprise there and besides he’s trying real hard to make a decent life for himself here, so I’d never dream of asking him to help out on a hunt. So for now hunting is on hold but maybe one day I’ll go back to it, we’ll see. 

You done any hunting since you left? I know from some of the cards that you were looking for jobs. Did you find any? 

“You ever try hunting with a puppy Dad?” Dean commented as he patted Jack’s head. “Yeah we love hunting don’t we Jack? We love hunting rabbits, birds and my favorite cats!”

_Jake is doing fine; working long hours. He wants to have a longer break over Thanksgiving so has been picking up extra shifts here and there. He’s a great guy but then you always knew that. When you first left he was over at our place regularly delivering the news. I guess dropping by became a habit because we see him a few times a week now. Either he comes here or we go over there. He’s good company and we just sit on the porch and have a beer or watch the games on TV, that sort of thing._

Missouri is a pretty relaxed sort of place and after over twenty years on the road it’s good to move at slower pace. I still have the place decked out with tricks of the trade and the salt is nearby if needed but we haven’t been bothered by anything since that time in the hospital. I guess that servant was right no-one wants to touch us because of old yellow-eyes.

Dean looked up from the letter his eyes drifting to the places where he had hidden numerous protection symbols around his apartment. Like his Dad he wasn’t about to take the risk that something might come after him. As he told Jack expect the unexpected and he did, but even he had to admit that after all those years hunting, of constantly looking over your shoulder, it was good to not have to worry if the next big bad whatever decided to come after you. However, he was protected and ready if the situation arose.

_So I fill my days working at the garage and doing mundane chores like cooking. I actually did a short course called _Back to Basics Cooking._ Son, cooking was never something I bothered with. As you know if we couldn’t buy it or nuke it we didn’t eat it. Your Mom though, she was amazing. She’d cook up all this food and man it was good. Anyway I realized that our diet was pretty bland and yeah I have to say I would have left home too if I had to eat much more of what I served up each night. Anyway, these days I’m just happy to know how to fire up the barbeque which is why 1. I bought us a barbeque and 2. I did another course called _Beer and the Barbeque._ Now there’s a course made for men! Let’s just say dining at home is a lot tastier than when you were here. _

Okay there’s something I need…I thought I should tell you…

Dean put the letter down. “Here it comes,” he whispered. “This is the part where he says there’s no room for me in their lives anymore.” He took a steadying breath and steeled himself for the worst.

…I should tell you that I’ve been seeing a woman….

He leapt to his feet in shock, surprising Jack who hurried off to a safe distance to watch his master. “He’s dating?” Dean yelled. “Dad’s dating? What about Mom?”

_…a woman who you probably don’t remember. Lisa Warren. She’s a liaison officer with the local cops. Anyway, she helped out when you were abducted. We stayed friends caught up every now and then over a drink and dinner. Anyway this year I sort of asked her out on a date. Didn’t expect she would say yes but I like her and well what did I have to lose? Anyway she said yes and well…look, it’s not real serious or anything. I’m not getting married…like I haven’t asked her yet. Just want to take things slowly, so don’t panic and in case you’re wondering she’s thirty-eight not eighteen so stop saying eewww…_

Dean clamped his mouth shut. As he had read the letter he found himself saying eewww. “How did he know I was saying that?” He asked as he looked around the room half expecting to see his Dad standing there. 

_I know you probably think I should have stayed true to your Mom but son your Mom has been gone a long while now and I’m only human.”_

“Oh that’s nasty. I do not want that thought running around my head,” Dean muttered.

_So don’t get too wound up over this. I explained it all to Sam and he was okay with it eventually. I guess the idea that your old man is dating is weird but it’s kinda nice to have someone in my life now that you boys are grown up.”_

Well, I had better go rustle up some grub. Sam will be home in about an hour and Jake was dropping in later for a beer. In case you’re wondering I didn’t tell the boys that I wrote to you. To be honest I wasn’t sure how you’d take it so I didn’t want to get their hopes up in case you didn’t write back. A while ago I floated the idea with the boys and they thought that I would be invading your privacy if I wrote, so I decided I wouldn’t do it but the thing is I miss you son and I just wanted to talk to you so I took a risk. Don’t feel like you owe me a letter or anything. This was just a quick note to catch up on the family and tell you that while we miss you we understand that you needed to be out there on your own.

As I said, better go. Take care son. From what I see on TV the boats can be pretty dangerous and the sea takes no prisoners, so watch yourself okay! Enjoy Thanksgiving. I hope you can share it with some friends. We’ll be having a dinner here again, Bobby will be down and a few friends are coming over as well and I’m even cooking the turkey! 

Love you son. Miss you more than you will ever know and I wish you all the peace in the world.

Love  
Dad

15 Nov 2008

Dean put the letter down, looked at Jack and said, “See what I mean? Talk about expect the unexpected. I didn’t see that one coming at all!”

*****************************************

**Chapter 35** \- _Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city._

 

“Nice apron!” snorted Bobby as he leaned against the kitchen bench and sipped his beer.

John rolled his eyes and continued stirring the gravy hoping that Bobby would drop the subject before it took on epic proportions. Unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky.

“A little something from Lisa?” 

“Yeah. She thought it was funny that I decided to do a cooking class so this is the end result,” John explained as he modeled the apron.

“She has a sense of humor for a cop!”

“Liaison officer…”

“She go to the academy?”

“Yep.”

“Then she’s a cop. Still can’t get my head around you dating an authority figure. She use her cuffs…”

John whirled around, wooden spoon shaking for emphasis, “Do not do this,” he ordered.

“Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You know what. She’s a nice person, she’s good at her job and for reasons I am so not going to question, she likes me. We are not going to discuss my sex life, my love life or my cooking. Are we clear? Drop it! All of it!”

Bobby threw his hands in the air in surrender. “I hear ya and for the record I never mentioned your cooking but since she gave ya that apron she obviously knows what it’s like.” 

“Bite me!” John grumbled in defeat as he turned his attention back to the dinner.

“Her job, not mine,” Bobby teased.

Luckily Sam burst into the kitchen saving John from belting Bobby senseless with the nearest kitchen utensil. 

“What time’s everyone coming?” Sam asked breathlessly.

“Why are you out of breath?” asked John. “Second thoughts don’t answer that.”

“Okay,” said Sam happily. 

“Where’s Sarah?” 

“Outside talking to Jake. He’s telling her about the length of his hose,” Sam commented somewhat distractedly as he checked the food. 

John made a face at Bobby who gave a silent _beat’s me_ reply.

Sam was about to stick his finger into the mashed potato when John yelled at him.

“Don’t even think about it mister. Go do something useful like set the table.” 

“But I’m hungry.” 

“Table. Now, or none of us will eat.”

“Fine,” Sam conceded as he collected a fist full of cutlery from the kitchen draw.

“Don’t you think you should be checking which hose Jake’s talking about?” Bobby asked.

Sam and John both shouted “Bobby!”

“Hey I’m just saying…”

“What did I tell you?” John warned Bobby.

“You said I couldn’t discuss _your_ sex life. You said nothing about Jake’s or Sam’s. Anyway I only asked you about the cuffs, Jake’s talking about hoses. I guess size is important!”

“Damn it Bobby!” John roared in frustration at Bobby, who was totally unrepentant.

Sam on the other hand desperately tried to rid his mind of any imagery that involved his father, handcuffs and role play.

John was feeling slightly stressed about the day, hoping it would go well. Last year had been their first Thanksgiving and it had been fun; but this year he wanted to show off his new kitchen skills. So he wanted everything to be perfect and unfortunately it seemed Sam, Bobby and Jake had other ideas.

“Son everyone will be here in half an hour. How about you get that table set.”

“Okay.” Sam was more than happy to have something to do to override the previous conversation. However, Bobby changed the topic to something equally challenging.

“You plan on getting hitched any time soon?” he enquired.

Sam blushed slightly, “Ah Bobby, I’ve seen Sarah like four times in six months. Sure we talk every other day but I met her two years ago when Dean and I were hunting a ghost. Hardly first date material and it’s only recently that we reconnected, thanks to Dean. Thing is we need to get to know each other better…”

“So you are gonna marry her?” Bobby reiterated.

Sam smiled. “Are you living vicariously through me or something?”

Bobby shrugged and took a swig of beer.

“Ignore him son and while I have the chance, I’m glad Sarah was able to come down even if I didn’t know you two had been communicating with each other.”

“Sorry about that Dad.” Sam felt slightly guilty for hiding his relationship from his Dad but it was new and he wanted to make sure he didn’t ruin it before it even began. 

“Nothing to be sorry for son; as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” 

John knew all too well the importance of keeping his personal life private. Hell he never told the boys about seeing Lisa from time to time last year and he waited almost four months before telling Sam this year that he was actually dating her. So yes, he understood Sam’s hesitance. 

“I…we are happy,” Sam replied, then turning to Bobby, “and to answer your question Bobby, honestly, I don’t know. I think I need to finish law school first so I can actually provide for her before I start considering marriage.”

“Who’s getting married?” Sarah asked as she wandered into the kitchen followed by Jake.

“Hoses huh?” Bobby teased the fireman as he walked by.

Jake winked at the older man. “So who’s getting married?” He asked Sam as he slapped him on the back.

“No-one,” Sam replied with a frustrated sigh. “And by the way, you’re a monumental pain in the ass, you know that right?”

Jake grinned. “You’re just jealous because I won.” 

John sighed. “Were you two wrestling again? Try and stay clean enough for dinner, then you can go roll around on the lawn while we watch the game.”

However, the boys seemed oblivious to John’s request because Sam chased Jake out of the kitchen and back into to the yard.

As Sam passed Sarah, she managed to grab most of the cutlery from him. “I think I got it all,” she said as she juggled the assorted knives and forks in her hands. “They have way too much energy,” she noted as she watched them disappear outside. “So John how about _I_ set the table?” 

John couldn’t agree more on both accounts. “That would be great because I doubt you’ll get any help from those two.” 

“No problem and don’t worry, the boys will wear themselves out soon enough,” she said with a smile. “So how many are we expecting for dinner?”

“Well there’s us. So that’s five. Lisa makes six, Mary and Wilson is eight and a place for Dean. So nine and Doc Jessop will drop by for a drink but he won’t stay for dinner. So nine all up.”

“Dean’s coming?” She was surprised by the news as Sam hadn’t said anything about Dean being back in town. 

“Ah no but we always set a place for him. It’s a way of keeping him close.”

Sarah smiled wistfully “Oh, that’s so sweet. Alright that’s seats for nine and food for eight.” 

So while Sarah headed off to set the table, John made sure everything was on track for dinner. 

Bobby wandered over to John and whispered. “She’s a _really_ nice girl and she knows about the hunting…rare breed that one.” 

John agreed. “I know. They make a great couple.” 

Privately, John hoped Sam would marry her. Sarah reminded him of Mary. She was beautiful, smart, determined and wise. He had long ago worked out that the Winchester men needed people like her in their lives. It didn’t matter whether they were partners or friends as long as they provided counsel and comfort then the Winchesters responded well. Bobby had been that sort of friend to them for decades, Jake was definitely that to Dean and Sarah could be that for Sam…if Sam would only let her. 

_Time will tell,_ he thought. 

Bobby cut into John’s thoughts, “You said the good doctor was coming over?”

“He does a round of his patients at the hospital then drops by here on his way home. He’s a good man. Never thought that in the beginning mind you,” admitted John.

Bobby chuckled. “Yeah I recall a few calls from you about dumbass medical people who don’t know the difference between a hindquarter and a hoof.” 

John remembered those conversations all too well. “I got over it though. The guy knows his stuff and he’s saved Dean more times than I care to remember. We were lucky that he was Dean’s doctor. I think if anyone else had looked after Dean then he might not have pulled through.”

“Don’t tell me John Winchester has mellowed in his old age? I have to admit I’m getting all tingly watching you lot and your adopted son out there play house. I feel like I’m Uncle Charley from _My Three Sons._ ”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one son missing and if you’re Uncle Charley then how come I’m cooking?”

“Holidays,” Bobby announced. “Anyway I didn’t do the cooking classes.”

“Point taken and as for mellowing, well let’s just say I matured.” 

John sighed as he thought of the one who wasn’t with them. The one person he wished he could show how much he has changed. 

Bobby knew the look. “Dean would have enjoyed this,” he noted. “And if it’s any consolation when I last saw him, albeit last December, he was fine; a little tired maybe, but happy and all excited because it was Christmas.” 

“Dean always did love Christmas. We never did Thanksgiving so this today would be out of left field for him. Not his world at all.”

“There was a time when I would have said it wasn’t yours either.”

John nodded in agreement. “Funny I always wanted my life back and I thought killing old yellow-eyes would make it happen. I never factored in the consequences…Dean mainly I guess.” John looked around at his home. “We paid a huge price for this Bobby. Believe me when I say I’m over the moon that we have a home, grateful that I have a day job and very excited to see Sam back at law school. I just wish that Dean could have found what he was looking for here; that he could have come to know what normal life is really like. Still it would seem that Dean’s life is destined to be lived elsewhere. I just hope he finds peace wherever he ends up whether that’s in Maine or Montana.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Bobby raised his beer in salute.

The sound of raucous laughing drew their attention as Sam followed by Jake bolted into the living room.

“Boys will be boys,” Bobby stated as he watched Sam and Jake wrestle on the floor.

“Grow up you two,” John yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you two not to wrestle in the living room?”

“He started it,” Sam whined.

“Did not,” countered Jake as he continued to vie for the upper hand and the solitary knife that never made it into Sarah’s willing hands.

“Cut it out you two. Our guests will be here any minute and Sam put that knife down …”

“I got it,’ shouted Jake as he snatched the knife from Sam’s hand. “Aha victory!” He cried despite the fact that he was pinned to the floor by the six-four former hunter.

“Sam! Jake! Enough! I need that knife. Now one of you bring it here please,” Sarah demanded.

“I will,” stated Sam.

“No I will,” said Jake. “I’m the one holding it.”

And so began a new tousle over the knife.

Bobby watched them with amusement, recalling days when he and John had fought over things equally inane. 

Even the sound of the doorbell didn’t interrupt the boys’ game.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” John grumbled as he trudged past Sam and Jake who were still entangled on the floor. “I’ll get the door shall I and I’ll just tell our guests they get dinner and a show today. Happy Thanksgiving!” 

As he headed down the hall the sounds of brawling, panting and _get off me,_ and _you’re mine,_ were interspersed with Sarah’s demands for the knife and Bobby’s laughter. 

“Welcome to my nightmare,” he muttered under his breath as he opened the front door only to have cold water thrown in his face.

“What the…Dean?” He cried in utter amazement as he wiped the water from his eyes. 

There before him stood his eldest son, devoid of emotion, dog under one arm and a half-gallon bottle of water with rosary beads floating inside in the other hand and in heartbeat John knew what was going to go down.

“Nice to see you again son, but a simple hello would have sufficed,” he replied evenly. 

Dean briefly looked his Dad up and down before launching into an exorcism ritual.

“Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi.”

When John thought about seeing Dean again this _wasn’t_ one of the scenarios that he replayed in his head. While he would have preferred to pull Dean into a bear hug he wasn’t about to interrupt what his son, who for reasons known only to him, had decided to do. It was better and safer to let this play out rather than risk life and limb by trying to stop him. 

“Qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto,” Dean said with conviction.

John rolled his eyes and sighed he so didn’t need this now; let alone the fact that Dean was doing it in such a public space, albeit their front porch. “If you’re waiting for my head to spin around you’ll be sorely disappointed,” he drawled. 

Dean paused momentarily as if trying to work out if his father was possessed by a demon or whether he had been turned by something else evil, when the sounds of raised voices and devilish laughter from inside the house drew his attention.

Dean rationally concluded that the holy water and exorcism seemed to have no effect on his Dad then maybe his Dad wasn’t a demon after all, but he wasn’t human either. After all when had John Winchester ever pranced about in an apron let alone one that said _If it fits in a toaster I can cook it._

_That’s so evil!_ Dean thought as he weighed up his options. “I’m not done with you yet,” he finally snarled as he barged past John in search of whatever was unfolding deeper in the house. 

Dean knew Sam must be inside somewhere so he yelled for him to grab the silver as they could use that against an assortment of evil beings and more importantly he didn’t have a spare hand so Sam would have to help him fight the good fight. 

John followed Dean down the hall and stood with arms crossed and head shaking to watch how this would play out. While he would rather have shook some sense into his dumb kid he figured he should let him discover for himself that everything was okay; so he stayed quiet and watched it all unfold.

Unfortunately for Dean when he burst into the living room the scene before him challenged him on so many levels. He saw Jake, with a silver knife firmly in his grip, pinned to the floor by Sam. Sam, who was obviously trying to wrest the knife from Jake, kept shouting in a demonic tone, “Mine! Mine! Mine!” While nearby, Bobby watched the contest with detached amusement and seemed to have no intention of stopping it. The only sane person seemed to be Sarah because she was telling them to get up. But then he couldn’t work out why Sarah was even there; she lived in New York and Missouri was a very long way from there. Everything was wrong, so he kept a firm hold on his dog while he tried to work out whom to protect, who to attack and why no-one other than Sarah seemed upset about what was going on. 

However, with all eyes on Sam and Jake no-one noticed Dean enter the room and John wasn’t about to alert them either. He figured if he was wet then they could all suffer the same fate. 

Dean finally made his move and rushed up on Sam, quickly drenching him with holy water which by default soaked Jake. He then whirled around and saturated Bobby too. After all, the Bobby he knew would never have sat back and let an innocent man die at the hands of a demon.

He had expected to hear the sound of sizzling flesh and screams of pain instead all heard was _what the fuck; what did you do that for; anyone got a hairdryer_ and _Dean you’re home._

Despite feeling that his world had turned upside down he stood firm. “Don’t you hurt my brother,” he warned the demon.

Jake stared opened mouth at him before he finally found his voice. “Good to see you too Dean and in case you haven’t noticed I’m the one pinned to the floor here. So if anyone is getting hurt it’s me… Get off me you behemoth,” he grunted as he shoved a distracted Sam to the side.

Dean ignored Jake and focused on Sam. “Get out of my brother,” he ordered the demon that he was certain had taken over Sam.

“Dean? Dean!” Sam leapt to his feet, face and clothes dripping wet, and stalked towards his brother. 

Faced with an imminent attack, Dean needed to free up both hands so he quickly discarded the water bottle and put Jack on the floor, who wisely scurried off into the kitchen, closely followed by Sarah. He then took a deep breath and began to recite the exorcism ritual.

“Domine Jesu Christe, Fili Dei vivi. Qui ex voluntate Patris, cooperante Spiritu Sancto.”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re trying to exorcise _me_? I’m your brother.”

_This is the last time you get to attack my family,_ thought Dean. 

“Well the Sam I know wouldn’t be trying to kill Jake and why didn’t Bobby stop you and why is Dad wearing an apron? Unless you’re all crazy then you must be possessed or turned or…” 

“Kid the only one acting strange here is you,” Bobby remarked as he hurled the holy water from his hip flask at Dean.

“What was that for?” shrieked Dean.

“Just checking boy,” said Bobby. “Besides last we heard you were up in Maine so we’d be crazy not to check you out too.”

Jake jumped to his feet and shook his wet shirt. “How come you guys always think I’m possessed?” he asked as he wiped his face on his sleeve. 

“Wrong place, wrong time sunshine. Get used to it,” Bobby drawled without taking his eyes off Dean.

Sarah wandered back into the room cuddling Jack. “He’s so cute,” she said as she patted the dog. She looked at the wet and confused men. “They’re silly aren’t they?” She cooed to the dog. “Hello Dean. Wonderful to see you again.” 

“Sarah!” he replied. He went to pat Jack but the dog growled at him. “Traitor!”

“I’ll go check on dinner while you boys sort yourselves out,” she informed them.

By this stage Dean had worked out that he had made a huge mistake but in some respects it was Sarah’s reaction that threw him the most. She seemed so calm and in control amidst the chaos. “Wait. Sarah aren’t you even a little surprised by all of this?” 

Sarah thought for a minute and then said, “No.”

“Why not?” Dean just has to know. 

“Well considering that when we first met, I tagged along while you and Sam hunted a pre-teen serial killer ghost who had a fondness for cut-throat razors and murder, before digging up a grave to salt and burn a skeleton. So when I’m around you guys I kind of expect the unexpected. Besides for all I know what just happened now was the Winchester version of a hug.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Welcome home Dean. The towels are down the hall, second cupboard on the right. Clean up boys because dinner is ready.”

“Yeah thanks,” he murmured as he watched her walk away. He turned to his brother. “Dude you have to marry that girl. She’s awesome!”

“Okay,” Sam replied equally stunned by her calm in the storm temperament.

However, she left the room no-one quite knew what to say so the five men just stared at each other. Bobby finally broke the silence, “Why in Sam Hill would you think we were demons you idjit?”

“Because Dad wrote that letter…”

John was stunned. “You thought I was possessed because I wrote you a letter?”

“Wait up,” Sam interrupted. “You wrote to Dean?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to talk to my _other_ son as well as you,” he snapped back. 

“But Jake and I said you shouldn’t.”

“Hey don’t blame me. You said it would invade Dean’s privacy. I said don’t shoot the messenger and talk to Jessop instead.”

“Thanks for the backup dude,” Sam bitched.

“This is _not_ my fault big foot…”

John had had enough. “Shut up the pair of you. Look it was just a little letter filling Dean in on our life. You know the usual stuff like Sam likes law school, Jake was doing extra shifts, I did a cooking class and was dating Lisa. Nothing more, nothing less.”

There was stunned silence as everyone stared at Dean.

“What?” He asked feeling the heat from their collective gaze.

Sam shook his head in amazement. “Dad wrote you a newsy letter and you freaked out?”

“Come on Sam, since when has Dad ever written to us? It was always coordinates or a phone call. So yes getting a letter was weird.”

John was slightly offended. “Well I couldn’t call you son because you left your phone at home and what good were coordinates? You had a regular job; I could hardly send you out to look for the Devils Triangle on your days off.”

“That’s near Florida Dad. I’m in…”

“I know where you are son. I still don’t get why you were so concerned. You wrote to us and we didn’t think you were possessed. So what was so different about getting a letter from me?”

“Well you wrote that you were _only human_.”

“And?” 

“I took it as a sign that you were trying to let me know that you were possessed.”

“So you drove straight here on the off chance that I was?”

“Yeah!”

John was dumbfounded. The last person he expected to see today was Dean and the last reason he would have picked for his son to come home was because Dean thought that he was possessed.

“Oh son I’m grateful that you were worried about us and I’m stunned that you dropped everything to come back here to save us but what I was trying to tell you in the letter was that it’s been a _really_ long time since I’ve been with anyone, in the biblical sense. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

Dean half nodded his head and then shook his head. “No.”

John took a deep breath and half whispered. “Son since I've started dating again…I’ve had needs…biological ones,” John explained. He certainly didn’t want Sarah overhearing a discussion about her potential future father-in law’s sex life.

Dean’s eyes bulged and Sam screwed up his face.

“Wow that’s something I didn’t need to know,” groaned Jake. 

“Wait up I thought you said we couldn’t discuss your sex life?” Bobby asked. 

John threw his hands in the air in defeat. “Okay everyone forget I ever said anything. Just drop it okay!” He tried to calm his frayed nerves and said, “So Dean you thought a demon had me by the balls and that I needed saving? That maybe Sammy was being held prisoner by demonic forces and that you needed to get back here and rescue us?”

“Umm…that pretty much sums it up.”

“You didn’t consider calling Bobby for back up or getting him to check us out first?”

“Ah no.”

“Okay then, well I’m glad we sorted that out. So are you satisfied that none of us are possessed?”

Dean nodded.

John picked up a silver knife, “You sure we don’t need to bleed to eliminate other things?”

Jake was horrified. “Whoa you can bleed out for all I care but there is no way I am going to cut myself with a table knife just so you can see that I’m not an alien.”

“You’d never make a hunter,” Bobby growled.

Jake glared at Bobby. “The thing is _Robert_ I don’t want to be a hunter.”

Dean felt like he had entered a parallel universe. He didn’t expect his family to be okay and he really hadn’t thought about what he would do once he _saved_ them. In fact it _never_ crossed his mind that they might not need saving. 

“Dean?” John drew his eldest son’s attention back to the main problem. “Are you happy that we are who we’re supposed to be?” 

“Yeah,” Dean conceded as the gravity of his decision to come home hit him. He felt out of his depth and bereft of the anonymity he had in Maine as he now stood center stage in the midst of a family get-together.

John put down the knife. “Okay and since we’re discussing hunting, you’re getting a little rusty kiddo. You might want to hone up on your skills. More importantly why were you hunting with a dog? It limits your ability to act because it leaves you with only one hand free. Not smart son.”

Dean felt the need to defend his course of action. “I didn’t want him to get hurt. He’s still a puppy.” 

“He’s one year old; leave him in the car next time son.”

“Leave the boy alone. He’s travelled a long way and he doesn’t need shit from you the minute he walks into the house,” Bobby told John.

That was the last thing John needed to hear. “Stop protecting him. You used to do that when he was a kid. Besides he has to learn the right way to do things because in our line of work one wrong move could mean death.”

“Like you’d know. You haven’t hunted in two years.”

“It’s like riding a bike you never forget!” John argued.

“Bet you haven’t done that in years either.”

“Are we still talking about bikes?”

“This isn’t about you John it’s about Dean. I protected him, as you put it, because you were never around. Someone had to give the boys a normal life?”

“Normal life? Oh right. So while I was off hunting, your idea of a normal life was to let the boys play ghost…ghost…” the name of the game eluded him after so many years.

“Ghostbusters,” Dean offered.

“Thank you son. Ghostbusters! You had my sons chasing imaginary apparitions with homemade flame-throwers.”

“I was teaching them hand-eye coordination.”

“They were six and ten years old Bobby.” 

“We weren’t supposed to cross the streams,” Dean explained as he recalled how much they loved that game.

“It was fun Dad,” chimed in Sam. “And Bobby’s right, you were never there.”

John threw his hands in the air in despair. “Oh give me a break. Not this again. I get it Sam. I was a lousy father. I know that I can’t change the past or your opinion of me but can we agree to move past it if I try to make life better now?”

Sam was in full blown argue mode and wasn’t about to concede anything just yet. “Bobby was great and he tried to make life okay for us but what we really wanted was to be with you.”

“Really? Then how come you spent every day until you went to college complaining about being on the road,” shouted John.

“Yeah well you’re the one who said go and don’t come back…” retaliated Sam.

“Are you still on about that Sam…”

“Well you said it John…”

“Shut up Bobby…”

“Dad! Bobby’s our guest…”

“Guest nothing. He’s family. The _guests_ are one their way…”

“Your Dad’s right family doesn’t end with blood…”

Dean looked at the three men and took a step back in case he was hit by a verbal barrage. He was so mesmerized by them that he was taken by surprise when Jake suddenly hugged him. 

“God I missed you,” he whispered before releasing Dean and standing next to him. “You okay?” He asked as they watched the other men argue.

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing quite like watching your family fight is there?” Jake mused as he observed the goings on.

“Guess not.”

“You look kind of stunned.”

“They’re not possessed,” Dean mumbled in disbelief.

Jake looked at the men, “How can you tell?”

“They always argue. That’s normal.”

“You lot are weird man.”

“I guess. Sorry,” Dean replied although he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing.

“No apologies necessary. They’re family. You take them as you find ‘em. I just…damn it’s good to see you,” he said with a huge smile. “Wow you’re actually here!”

“Missed you too.” 

Dean was saved from further awkward chick flick moments by the sound of the doorbell. Since no-one else seemed inclined to answer it he went to see who was there.

When he opened it he was confronted by three very surprised people. “Yes?” he asked.

“Dean!” They all shouted at the same time as they smothered him in hugs before thrusting trays of food into his hands.

“Welcome home…”

“John never said you’d be here…”

“Look at you…”

Dean tried not to look like a deer in headlights. “Surprise!” he replied as he tried to remember who they all were. He sort of recognized Mary and the other woman he assumed was Lisa, his Dad’s friend and the guy… he had no idea.

“Come in,” he said and then wondered if he should have done that since his family was still arguing in the living room. They filed past him and into the fracas as if it was a normal day with the Winchesters, hugging people, shaking hands and generally fitting right in.

“They brought food,” he announced to the crowd.

“Put them in the kitchen Dean,” Sarah suggested.

He did as he was told and placed the trays on the bench, grateful that Sarah was so calm when he felt like he was in a whirlpool.

Lisa gave John him a kiss on the cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving! John you’re wet?” She looked at the other men and realized they were in a similar state. “Why are you all wet?”

“Water fight,” Sam offered lamely.

“In November?” Lisa clearly thought they were crazy.

“Thanksgiving tradition,” John offered by way of explanation as he recalled all the times he had pelted holy water at something otherworldly over the Thanksgiving holidays, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Lisa dropped the subject when she noticed John had his apron on. “You’re wearing it.”

“Well I had to prove to you I could cook without the toaster,” he replied happily.

Dean was fascinated by the exchange between his Dad and Lisa. He honestly couldn’t recall a time when his Dad had dated when they were hunting so it was odd to see him with a woman now. Still they seemed good together and he was genuinely happy that his Dad had someone in his life that obviously cared about him. 

“Dean, I’m Wilson…”

The little man he had met at the front door broke into his thoughts. “Oh right the lawyer. Hey thanks for everything you did for me.” While Dean didn’t really know the guy he knew what the man had done for him and his family. 

“Wilson how you doing?” Sam asked warmly as he joined them. 

“I’m fine thanks Sam and how are your studies going? Still going to work with me in your breaks?”

“You bet ya. It’s a great opportunity. Thanks man.”

“My pleasure…”

Dean felt so out of place. Everyone seemed to know each other. There was genuine love and happiness in the group and he felt like an outsider. He was the _real_ guest, everyone else was family.

Sam grabbed Dean in a hug. “Haven’t had a chance to do that yet. Wow I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Dean grunted, “Sam release! Need to breathe.” 

“Ah sorry dude. Hey Wilson, Dean’s home?” said Sam stating the obvious.

“Yes Sam. I can see that,” he laughed. 

Sam stayed to close to Dean as if he was afraid his brother might bolt for the front door and disappear again. “So Dean do you remember Wilson?” 

“Dude personal space,” Dean said as he took a step away from Sam who simply laughed and took a step closer. Dean tried to ignore him and turned to Wilson. “We met at the hospital right? Sorry man, those days back then are really hazy for me.”

“Well you were very ill so I’d be surprised if you remember much at all. Anyway it’s good to see you home. How long are you staying?”

Suddenly all eyes turned to Dean. “Well I still have to sort that out yet but I’m home for the holidays and hopefully back for Christmas,” he offered. 

There was a collective groan of disappoint which shocked him. He had grown up putting everyone else first and to realize that people actually cared whether he was there or not was something he had never experienced before.

John walked over and gave Dean the hug he had wanted to give him from the moment he saw him on the doorstep. “The important thing is you’re home now son.”

He stepped back and smiled but Dean could see how sad his Dad was at the prospect of him leaving again so soon.

Sarah broke the mood by cheerily announcing that dinner was ready. 

_God bless that girl,_ John thought as he nodded his thanks to her. 

There would be time to discuss everything with Dean later with but right now John just wanted his son to have the best Thanksgiving ever. 

“Go sit down son,” John said as he patted Dean on the back. “Folks take a seat; let’s get this show on the road.”

As the others made their way to the table Dean hesitated as it suddenly occurred to him that since no-one had expected him to be there, then there wouldn’t be a place for him at the table. 

“Dean sit!” John told his son as he carried food to the table. 

“Where?” Dean asked as he tried to work out where he fitted in.

“Here dear,” Mary explained as she led him to the seat between her and Jake. “Your Dad always sets a place for you even if you can’t be here.”

Dean sat down clearly overwhelmed by everything. 

Jake could see that Dean was struggling so he put an arm across the back of Dean’s chair and leant in close to say, “They’d never forget you Dean. That’s the nice thing about family they give you unconditional love.”

Dean simply nodded as he was too overcome to speak.

John stood at the head of the table, raised his glass in a toast and said, “I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago but then one day my sons and I came to Missouri. Our tragedy here became a triumph. Through all the trials and tribulations we’ve survived and now we have a home and a life. To all of you, you are incredibly special to us in ways that we can never say or repay. You are our family. So thank you for what you give to us every single day. That is the miracle of our lives. Happy Thanksgiving…”

As Dean raised his glass in salute, he had to agree his Dad was right. Missouri had been good for them in ways they hadn’t planned or expected. The problem was Dean didn’t know whether he could make a life for himself here in Missouri after all that had happened but right now he just wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving, catch up with everyone and have some fun. The big decisions could wait just a bit longer.

John beamed as he looked around the table at the people who had made his life so wonderful. He felt very blessed to see both his sons sitting there. In particular to have Dean home, on this day especially, was a dream come true. John was overwhelmed by his son’s devotion to his family and his determination to help them. It was all the more remarkable considering what had transpired between them all a little over two years ago. More importantly though John knew that if ever needed proof that he still mattered to Dean then this was it. The relief he felt was overpowering and for the first time in a long while John saw the light at the end of the tunnel for all of them even if it did mean Dean lived somewhere else.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 36** \- _There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved._

 

“Dean! Dean! You’re safe! Come on wake up. Jack’s worried about you....”

It had been over a year since Jake had seen one of Dean’s nightmares but time aside and the fact that he was half asleep himself, he remembered all too well how to deal with them. 

“It’s okay Dean. You’re safe. You’re at home in Missouri. Thanksgiving remember? You ate way too much, watched the game on TV and fell asleep on the couch.”

Dean stopped fighting and stared at Jake although there seemed little real sign that Dean understood what was being said. 

“You with me buddy?” Jake asked quietly.

Jake’s calm but insistent voice finally cut through the terror and confusion as Dean broke free from his nightmare. 

Dean nodded ever so slightly. “I’m okay,” he hoarsely replied but his a vice-like grip on Jake’s arms belied his words. “I’m okay,” he repeated although he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. 

Jack, who had been nestled next to Dean prior to his nightmare, jumped back up on the couch now that Dean had stopped thrashing around. Dean released his death-like grip of Jake and gave the dog a pat as it frantically licked his face. “It’s okay dude. I’m okay,” he rasped. 

Although logically he understood why he’d had the nightmare; after all he had been stressed about his family being possessed, had driven for days to get home to rescue them and…well this was where his life had been ripped apart pretty much like his body, he was far from alright. Since he rarely had nightmares anymore when they did happen he was left feeling emotionally shredded. Not a problem when you live alone in a one bedroom apartment but he was at home now with family and friends and unfortunately had an audience. So he desperately tried to quell his terror and get on top of things quickly before he ended up in a well-meaning but useless discussion about his mental health.

A glass of water suddenly appeared and he looked up to see his Dad standing there. “Thanks,” he muttered as he downed the cool liquid.

“Still have nightmares huh?”

“Not as much…” Dean admitted but he doubted that they would believe him. “What time is it?” Dean asked wearily.

“3.15,” a third person answered.

Dean looked up to see his brother standing there. “Hey Sam,” he muttered.

“You okay?” Concern coloring Sam’s voice.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. It happens sometimes. Sorry that I woke everyone up.” He looked around and noted that Bobby wasn’t there. “Least Bobby slept through it,” he pointed out as he tried to focus on something positive.

John sighed, “Actually he didn’t. Nothing he could do to help so I sent him back to bed.”

“Oh,” was all Dean could think to say. “Well I’m good,” he reassured the worried men as he finally found the strength to sit up and swing his legs onto the floor. “Don’t panic. It happens occasionally. I’ve just had a couple of long days…” he said with a tired shrugged. “Go back to bed. I’m fine.”

The three men hesitated.

“Seriously, I’m okay,” Dean stressed although he was sure they didn’t believe him. 

John and Sam looked at each other and then Dean. They knew Dean was right but they hated leaving him to deal with it all alone. Still they also reasoned that he had dealt with his demons on his own for a long while, so logic won out over concern as John and Sam both said, “Goodnight,” and reluctantly headed off to bed.

Jake sat down next to Dean after his family left.

“You don’t have to stay,” Dean stated wearily.

“Yeah I do.”

“Why?” 

“You’re on my bed.”

“What?”

“I was going to crash on the couch but you got there first,” Jake said with a smile.

“Why didn’t you use my bed?”

“Oh because I thought you might wake up sometime during the night and the last thing you would expect to find was Goldilocks sleeping in the _just right_ bed. So if you go to your room then I get the couch and we both get some rest.”

“It’s not that bad you know,” Dean replied.

“What the couch?”

“No, the dreams,” Dean laughed. “Seriously I don’t get that many anymore. I guess being home sort of stirred things up.”

“Except you hadn’t thought it would, so it took you by surprise. Post-traumatic stress does that you know.”

Dean looked at the man in surprise. “How did you know?”

“What? About PTSD?” 

Dean nodded.

“Well let’s see, after everything you went through I doubt you would have walked away like nothing happened. More importantly if you were okay, then you wouldn’t have left like you did; so in my books that’s PTSD.” 

Dean smiled. “Well aren’t you the font on all things mentally unbalanced; you been reading up since I left?”

“Hey I’m no expert on the topic but we have counseling available if we go through tough things on the job. Every so often a flyer comes around about how to deal with it if you don’t want professional help. So yeah, I know what it can do to a person and I know it doesn’t have to last a lifetime if you get help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“No you don’t _want_ help but I understand why. You’ve used self-help most of your life. You’ve dealt with all the shitty stuff the best you could and when things went wrong a couple of years ago you fell back on tried and true methods but they didn’t work. So you tried to ignore it all; to drown your sorrows and hope that you made out it the other side like you always had before. Except this was too big and nothing worked so you figured that if you left you might gain some control over your life. My guess is the first few weeks you were away were hell for you. You probably drank too much; you would have looked like a dead man walking. By the time you saw that lady, Missouri, she worked out quick smart you needed help and she knew you wouldn’t get any, so she gave you a dog; it made you focus on someone other than yourself. Now I’m not saying you were self-centered; hey you had a right to be a little introspective, but to get over the hump you needed a major distraction and Jack here, he was it,” he stated as he patted the dog. “I bet things improved a little bit each day after that. You drank less, focused on getting your health in line and started to enjoy life again. Smart lady that Missouri.” 

“Yeah she’s a regular Einstein.”

Jake ignored the sarcasm. “Dude I believe you when you say the nightmares aren’t a big deal anymore. I only have to look at you to see the changes. You look great. The dark circles under your eyes are gone, you’re buff…”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself and if I may continue; you seem a like man who has the world at his fingertips not its weight on his shoulders. You’re confident, in control of who you are and what you want and you’re everything your family described you as from before I met you.” He put out his hand, “Pleased to meet you Dean.”

For the first time in his life, Dean understood what it meant to have a friend. Jake had met him during one of the worst periods of his life and had stuck by him. The concept that he mattered to people beyond his family was both overwhelming and strangely comforting.

Dean smiled and shook Jake’s hand. “It’s mutual. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to _my_ bed,” he said as he stood up and stretched.

“Thank god! I thought you’d never leave,” Jake teased as he settled down to sleep.

Dean watched Jake covet the couch. “Talk about jump in my grave,” he snorted.

“Nah someone would probably salt and burn me if I did that.”

Dean laughed. “Remind me again, why are we friends?”

“Because you love me!” Jake replied. “Now go to bed and turn off the light. I need my beauty sleep.”

Dean sniggered, shook his head and dutifully flipped the light switch as he headed off to his room.

*****************************************

The next morning Dean woke to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. He heard Jake and Sam teasing each other and Bobby’s wry comments interspersed with his Dad’s warnings to take it outside. They sounded so normal, so relaxed and part of him wished he had been there to see the transformation from formidable hunters to happy home owners. Even so he wasn’t disappointed with how things had turned out for him. He had a good life; one he wouldn’t have chosen if given the choice a few years ago, but now, after everything he had been through, he embraced it.

He remembered how broken he was a year ago. How he pushed everyone away and finally left without a goodbye or a backwards glance. When the euphoria of being on the road again faded he had realized that maybe he should have thought through his plan a little better. It’s not that he hadn’t considered leaving; hell he had spoken to Doc Jessop the day before he left about his ideas but he hadn’t set in concrete exactly when he would leave, where he would go or how he intended to tell his family and Jake. It’s just that when he found himself at a loose end on that fateful anniversary and in trying to avoid the memories, he ended up driving out of town, leaving his past behind him.

So now he was back and while happy to be home, Dean hadn’t counted on the emotional rollercoaster he would put himself through once he arrived. When he left Maine his single focus had been to exorcise the demon, free his family and…well somehow he never moved past saving his Dad and Sam. He never thought about what it would be like to be with them after so long; that they might want to talk about why he left and why he never came home before now. He knew that they would want answers to questions that right now he wasn’t sure even he knew the answers to and after his rather unusual return and subsequent nightmare he simply didn’t have the strength to face it all…well not today at least.

Ignoring his nightmare, Dean had had a wonderful day yesterday. He had never experienced Thanksgiving before but he loved it. He had caught up with old friends, made some new ones, had a fine meal, watched the game and now, not even twenty four hours later, he lay half awake and very content in his own bed with Jack sleeping contentedly on the floor next to him. He must have dozed off again because he woke to silence and that was enough to make him get up and see where everyone had gone.

Dean strolled into the kitchen where he found his Dad busily making breakfast. “Smells good,” he remarked as the aroma of bacon and eggs made his stomach growl.

“Morning son. Hungry?” John asked happy to see Dean looking rested despite his nightmare. 

“Yeah. Starved! Where is everyone?”

“Jake and Bobby are in the in the workshop. Bobby’s trying to teach Jake to be a hunter. Let’s just say that for some people it comes naturally to hunt but Jake isn’t one of them. I’m just grateful he’s a good firefighter.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah no argument there. So where’s Sam? I thought I heard him earlier.”

“Gone to see Sarah. He’s planned a special day,” he added with a slight shrug. “Young love.”

“So is this serious between them?”

“I think so but they’re not rushing into anything.”

Dean snorted. “Sam always was practical.”

“Son…”

_Here it comes. THE TALK,_ thought Dean, so he decided to head his Dad off at the pass. “Dad I know you want to talk and I’m happy to do it but I think Sam should be here too; just the three of us. We can sit down and I can fill you in on everything. I’ll answer any questions you have; just not now…tomorrow maybe?”

“That sounds great son, I’d appreciate the opportunity to talk but I just wanted to know if you wanted toast with your bacon and eggs?”

“Ah, yeah sure pile it on. Thanks Dad,” Dean replied sheepishly.

John smiled. “Good to have you home son.”

*****************************************

After breakfast Dean wandered around the house noting the changes since he was last there.

“The place looks great…”

Jake burst through the door interrupting further conversation.

“You ever do anything quietly?” John asked.

Jake thought for moment and then shook his head, “Nah!” he replied as he attempted to tackle Dean, who swiftly side steeped the attack and turned on his assailant.

“Boys, not in the house!” John yelled. 

“He started it,” Dean complained as he let go of Jake.

John headed off a round of _did not/did too_ by asking what Dean intended to do with his day.

“Jake’s taking me to the firehouse…”

“And we’re doing some gardening?” Jake added.

“Gardening!” John and Dean exclaimed in surprise. 

“Dean doesn’t garden!” exclaimed John.

“I don’t garden,” Dean replied incredulously.

“May I point out that you dig up graves for a living…

“Did,” interjected Dean.

“Fine _did_ dig up graves but let’s just say it’s like riding a bike; you never forget how to do it. So it won’t hurt you to _dig_ a flower bed. Besides it’s not for me it’s for old Iris next door.”

“Oh…well in that case…fine I’ll do it.”

“And to reward you for your community service we’ll go to the bar tonight to play pool.”

Dean laughed. “You only want me there because of my exceptional skills.”

“Absolutely and I’m not afraid to admit it. Anyway I like to win and winning has been few and far between since you left.”

John laughed. “So we’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Yeah I guess. I’ll stay at Jake’s. You okay with that?” asked Dean tentatively.

“Son you’re a grown man. You don’t need my permission to stay at friend’s place.”

“Right, I know…”

“Get out of here.”

“Now that that’s settled we’re off,” called Jake as he started to lead Dean towards the front door. 

“Wait up,” Dean told Jake. “I need to grab my bag and Dad do you still have my old cell phone?” He called back to his Dad in the living room.

“It’s on my bedside table; kept it there in case you came home.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say, “Ah thanks,” he muttered as he headed to John’s room to retrieve his it.

He found it just where John said it would be, but what caught his eye was his Dad’s journal laid open on the bed. Dean figured his Dad was simply re-reading old entries. At first he thought it was just hunting entries but when he picked it up and began to read the entries he realized that they were entries from almost two years ago, around the time Dean had left the hospital to come home. He never really thought about how his Dad was doing back then. After all that had happened to him, he didn’t have a lot of room to deal with other people’s emotions but with the luxury of time he now had a perspective on life that he had lacked a year ago.

Heartfelt statements like _God I wish I could just wave a magic wand and fix this._ or _Mary we are so darn lucky. While we only had two kids, they’re both perfect._ provided an insight into how much his Dad cared for him and Sam, but one entry in particular struck Dean to the core. It read _… being sorry isn’t enough if no-one forgives you._ It was written by a man desperate to make things right but not knowing where to begin; much like Dean himself had felt back then. He made things right for himself by leaving it all behind him but his Dad didn’t have that luxury.

Dean realized that the one thing he never did was release his Dad from the burden of what happened at the cabin. Yes his Dad had created the circumstances for it to occur by going off alone and then getting possessed, however his intentions had not been to hurt Dean but rather to end the cycle of kill or be killed that they had lived for over two decades. He had wanted to protect Dean and Sam but tragically his plan had gone awry and the consequences were worse than any of them could have imagined. 

So all those times his Dad had tried talk to him about what happened, Dean had brushed aside the conversations by saying _sometimes hunts go wrong_. They all knew that some hunts don’t work out, however acknowledging it was one thing, but never saying _I know you meant well and I forgive you for what happened_ was like holding a grudge. Dean finally understood that by him never saying those three little words meant that his Dad continued to carry the burden and the guilt of that night. 

So while Dean knew he still had his own demons to contend with over it all, he at least could help exorcise some of his Dad’s…

“You find it son?” he heard his Dad call from down the hall.

“Yeah just checking missed calls,” he replied as he carefully returned the journal to where he had found it and then left his Dad’s room.

Jake laughed, “There’d be hundreds. We called it non-stop when you first disappeared.”

“Yeah I can see,” Dean stated as he scanned call after call. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” John said. “You did what you needed to do. Now get out of here.”

“Okay,” Dean replied still surprised by how good his Dad had been about everything. “Gardening awaits us. Lead me to your shovel,” he ordered Jake.

Jake beamed. “Awesome!”

“See you tomorrow Dad.”

*****************************************

Dean had had a great day, from seeing the guys at the firehouse, to winning at pool at the bar and even helping Iris in her garden; Dean had loved it all. That aside it had been a long day and Dean was relieved to be finally back at Jake’s where he could enjoy the quiet and sit back, catch up with his friend one on one and hopefully get a good night’s sleep.

However they had no sooner walked through the front door of Jake’s place, when Dean found himself pinned against the wall by one very angry fireman.

“I’m only going to say this once. Got me?” 

Dean nodded as best as he could even though there was an arm across his throat.

“Good! Now listen up. That was the dumbest thing you ever did.”

Dean frowned in confusion.

Jake rolled his eyes in frustration. “Leaving without saying goodbye numb-nuts. I’m your friend. You’re supposed to be able to tell your friends anything, everything, but you didn’t. You just left and I didn’t know where you were or what had happened to you. I wasn’t sure if you were dead in a ditch or on a slab in the morgue. Then I started to think about all those monsters and aliens out there…”

“Aliens? No such…” 

“Don’t say it!” Jake warned. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure if something had taken you, so I began to think I should call in the _Ghost Hunters_ guys or Mulder and Scully.”

“Mulder not real…” Dean choked out.

“Neither were ghosts and demons until I met you. The thing is Dean; I was scared because you just vanished. No-one saw you or the car after you left the house. The cops always say that the last person to see a missing person alive is often their killer. Do you know how hard it was for me to live next door to old Iris, knowing that you gave that first card to her and to worry that maybe, just maybe, she took the card then hit you with a shovel and buried you in the backyard? Come on Dean you know I don’t like gardening so why do you think we helped Iris today? 

Dean shook his head. 

“Because, before you sent the second card do you know how many times I ended up discussing flowers and fertilizer with her because I got caught looking over the fence trying to see if there was a suspicious mound in her backyard! Now she thinks I’m in love with roses when in reality I just think she’s your average garden variety serial killer.” 

Dean couldn’t quite hold back a smile.

“Not funny sunshine.” However despite his anger Jake relaxed the pressure against Dean’s neck but continued to pin him against the wall. 

“Why now?” Dean asked.

Jake was asking himself the same question. After all, the guy had been back a day and a half so he had had ample opportunity to air his complaints.

“First real chance I’ve had with you alone I guess,” he admitted with a tired shrug. “I just wanted you to know how worried I was when you disappeared.”

“But the cards…”

“I know the cards were meant to ease my and your family’s fears; and you have no idea how much we appreciated them and that first card. I know it wasn’t your fault that I didn’t get it until after I had searched the entire city. You see, I didn’t think you would just leave so I figured some bastard had got the jump on you. Even after I read the first card I still thought something had happened, or would, to you and if you were alive I had no guarantees that you would even write again. So that first ten days or so before the next card arrived were hell and in that time I created this whole scenario in my head that you had sped out of town and off a cliff or worse. Man I was so sure that you’d have a car accident due to speed or fatigue or something. Every time I got called out to a burning vehicle I thought it was going to be you. You know I didn’t stop worrying until I found out that you had gone to Cape Girardeau. I then realized that I had to pull myself together or I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

Dean was shocked by the depth of Jake’s fears. “Sorry.”

“I know you are and so am I, because I didn’t intend to tell you how I felt but…I guess my subconscious took over and here we are. The thing is, I was…am your friend; so I was worried. You see I thought you understood that you could tell me anything; I wouldn’t have judged you; friends don’t judge each other Dean, they support one another; pick each other up when they are down. Hell, I defended you against your family when you were in the hospital so don’t you think I would have supported you in this? You understand what I’m saying here?”

Dean understood loud and clear. 

“I get that you haven’t had a lot of experience with friendships but I’d spent eleven months trying to show you what being friends meant and I thought you understood that friendship is a two way street. Don’t you see? When I discovered that you had gone I thought I’d failed you; that I hadn’t done enough to help you deal with things. I thought that maybe I should have made you talk more or dragged you to a counselor…or” 

“It’s not your fault…”

“Not yours either buddy. I was hurt, but you had been hurting a whole lot longer so I understood why you went and believe me if you had told me what you planned to do I wouldn’t have stopped you from going. Hell I would have helped you pack and I would have gone with you if you had asked. The thing is, you needed to do this on your own. I know that and I’m happy that it worked out for you but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you or worry about you. I know I could’ve written to you by giving the letter to Jessop, like your Dad ended up doing, but I figured if you had wanted me to write then you would have said so in a card, but you didn’t. So I left you alone but believe me it was hard. Especially when you settled in at Camden; I wasn’t about to turn up on your doorstep without being invited. You needed space and I respected that. The hard part came when the cards stopped and then your Dad punched me in the face because he thought you were writing to me and not to him and Sam. I wish! We sorted that out though. He just missed you so much, they both did; and I knew firsthand how much they were hurting. Like me, they knew you needed time to work things out, but in the beginning I don’t think any of us ever thought you _wouldn’t_ come back but you didn’t and that was a shock.”

Dean closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall. Not for the first time he regretted not having invited his family and Jake to Maine.

“Stop that and look at me.” Jake ordered. “I’m just venting. I just wanted you to see it from my side. This isn’t about you and whether what you did was right or wrong. It’s about me not dealing with it; but don’t worry I won’t complain about it forever, that’s not my style. It’s a one of thing. I just want you to know that I’ll stand by you through thick and thin. You got that? I will support you, and yes, I will not hesitate tell you when I think you are going off on a tangent but please understand that me giving you my opinion, is very different to trying to stop you from doing what you want or need to do. So while we may disagree sometimes, that doesn’t mean I won’t support you and it definitely means that I’ll be there to pick up the pieces if it all goes wrong and you crash and burn. Friends do that and I would expect that it works in reverse too. I watch your back and you watch mine. And do me a favor give me your damn cell number so I can ring you occasionally and for the love of god and my physical safety, please give it to your family too okay?”

“Okay!”

Jake released Dean and then pulled him into a tight hug before stepping back and saying “Beer?”

A somewhat stunned Dean replied, “Whiskey!”

“Whiskey it is. So you’re not sticking around town?” 

As if he never heard the question Dean replied, “I meant to write and tell you that it was okay to visit.” 

“It’s fine. I understand.”

“I’m sorry! I was so screwed up back then,” admitted Dean as he began to pace. 

From Dean’s reaction, Jake realized that he had opened a can of worms. “I’ll make it a double shall I?” 

Without missing a beat Dean continued to talk out his own issues. “I told Jessop that I needed to get away but I wasn’t sure I would actually leave. That day when we were supposed to hang out together, I came over here and found you had gone to work. I had way too much time on my hands so I went sightseeing. Picked up the card, which I eventually left you, and somewhere between the memorial and the house I decided I had to get out of town. So I parked in the drive and wrote on the card and just as I was about to put it in your mailbox, Mrs Sandram came over to say hello so I gave it to her and asked her to make sure she gave it to you in person. I honestly thought you would get it the minute you returned home.”

“The best laid plans my friend?”

“Where were you that day?” Dean asked as if the question had troubled him for a year.

“At work like I’d told you. I needed the extra cash so I took the shift. Back then you used to get confused sometimes, I see now that you forgot. Your Dad, Sam and I didn’t want to crowd you so we left you to do your own thing. In hindsight it was stupid of us to leave you on your own despite you insisting that you would fine. I guess we were so intent on giving you the freedom to make your own decisions that we never thought one of them would be _thanks for the memories I’m outta here._ ”

Dean downed his drink. “I…” He stopped pacing and stared at his friend. “I never intended to stay away so long.”

“I’ll get the bottle shall I?” Jake muttered as he put the whiskey in front of Dean.

“I didn’t have any clothes?” Dean announced. 

“The day you left?” 

“Yeah!”

“From what I know you don’t stay dressed very long anyhow,” teased Jake. 

Dean ignored the friendly quip and poured himself another drink. “I had the overnight bag, that’s it and I when I reached Cape Girardeau I didn’t know what to do. I felt better for being away but sort of lost too. I had an old girlfriend there…”

“So I read in the card.” Jake pored himself a generous glass of whiskey as he settled in. “I gather she wasn’t happy to see you?”

Dean sat down opposite Jake. “There was this woman in white that we were hunting once and she used to say _I can never go home._ It was like that for me…seeing Cassie again. Wow. She acted like I had just killed her puppy; she was furious that I was in town. She was engaged and I was part of her past, the part that she didn’t want to remember let alone share with her fiancé. So I left town and was going to come home but I thought I’d take the scenic route…and before I knew it I was in Lawrence, Kansas where I had lived with my Mum. The rest is history. I kept moving, ended up in Maine, have a job, an apartment and…”

“Are you going to stay there?” 

Dean shrugged. “At first I just wanted to road trip for a while then come back here once I had sorted everything out, but I kept getting sick and I had Jack to look after. I just got so tired man.”

“Then why go to Maine and not Missouri?”

“The truth is I don’t know. I don’t like big cities…Chicago, LA, Boston…they’re fine to pass through but not places I like to stay in any longer than I have to.”

“Doesn’t answer the question though. Why go north? It was the one thing that really troubled your Dad too. Sam said he ranted about it every day once he heard your plans. He was worried sick for you and when you went further away, he was devastated.” 

Dean filled his glass with whiskey and took a hefty swing. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“Will you get it through your head that you didn’t do anything wrong! How we felt about what happened was our problem. Two seconds ago I had you pinned against a wall because I had pent up frustration over your impromptu departure. That was my problem, not yours.”

Dean rubbed his throat involuntary. “Okay, but can you vent by yelling next time?”

“Sorry about that. Thing is we didn’t understand and we didn’t know how to help either. I guess there was always the hope that when you had travelled from coast to coast you would come home but you didn’t, and by the time you said you had a job and an apartment, well we all knew that we wouldn’t be seeing you again anytime soon.”

“I work long hours on the boat and I admit that I also didn’t feel like facing all the questions about why I left and why I didn’t come back.”

Jake laughed. “You didn’t think that one through when you burst through the door yesterday did you?”

“Yeah well I thought demons had them.”

“Have you done any hunting while you were away?”

Dean shook his head. “I intended to, but never got around to it.”

“Yet you were prepared to risk everything by facing down hell’s outpost back here when you hadn’t hunted in what? Two years?” 

“You’d do the same if people were trapped in a burning building.”

“Point taken. So what next?”

“I need to get back or I’ll lose my job.”

“You really like it up there?”

“Well it’s small. Boston was too big and the Doc in Boston said I should settle down; so I headed for the nearest open space and found Camden. I was so ill at the time but I found a motel that took dogs and we holed up for a few weeks until I was stronger. At that point I thought I would turn around and come home except…”

“You found work,” Jake filled in.

“…one day when I went to the store there was a guy complaining that he couldn’t find anyone to crew on his boat, so I asked what he needed, told him I had no experience and he said he’d teach me. I left Jack with the motel owners at first but after a few trips I found an apartment and the kid next door used to watch him when I was out at sea.”

“Do you miss the sea?

“I miss the solitude. I kind of settled into my new life and the days turned to weeks and I kept meaning to contact you guys and say _here’s my address, come visit_ but I was too tired to call, too busy to write and thoroughly loving being independent.”

“Any attachments? Girls? Boys?” Jake asked.

Dean smiled. “Are you fishing for information?”

“You’re the fisherman pal.”

“No. No relationships or hook ups. No one night stand stands or sleep overs. I wasn’t ready.” 

“Makes sense. Do you think you’ll ever be ready?”

Dean downed his drink. “Maybe. One day. I’m doing okay though; I take things at a different pace now. I’m a think before I act kind of guy.”

“Oh so that’s why you burst through the front door yesterday?”

“Hey I thought it through and acted quickly not impulsively,” countered Dean with a smile.

“Right!” Jake changed the subject, “So you’re definitely not coming back.”

Dean shook his head. “I have a good job, an apartment and a dog. People know me but they don’t intrude on my life; well no more than any small town knows about everyone else. The thing is I get by; I like the hard work and the free time. I don’t have to worry if something will kill me because I’m hunting it and I get to stay in one place.”

Jake leaned forward in his chair to stress his point. “But you could do that here.”

“Jake…what would I do here. There’s no boats close by, I don’t want to be a mechanic, don’t want to do night school to learn a trade and honestly I have been out on my own for a year now and I just can’t see myself moving back home and living with Dad. Nothing against him, but I’m almost thirty and I just think it’s time for me to be independent. I have flown the nest man, I can’t go back now. I love them both but I can’t live with them for more than a few days. If I come back here then I’ll have no work, no pay and no choice but to live at home.”

“Live here. There’s plenty of room.”

Dean shook his head sadly. “Thanks for the offer but I need work and no way am I going to live here and not pay my way.”

Jake was disappointed but he understood. “What about working on a charter boat out of Cape Girardeau? Plenty of tourists go there for fishing, get a job working on the Mississippi. Come back here on your days off. You have options here and you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

“I’m not alone, I have Jack. Besides I like it up north. I’m happy,” countered Dean.

“Well if you’re so happy why are you slowly getting hammered in my living room?”

Dean stared at the empty bottle and put down his empty glass. “Fine it’s a little bit lonely, but I am…compared to what I was like before I left…I’m on top of the world. Yes I get the occasional nightmare and yes I miss you and my family, but I’ve managed to create a life for myself that I’m really proud of and while coming home would be great, the loss of independence scares the hell out of me. So come Monday I’m heading back. Sorry man but I just don’t see an alternative.”

“It’s okay. I do understand, but maybe your family and I can visit sometimes, and how about we stay in touch this time. Then you won’t seem lost to us.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dean happily agreed.

“Well we could of if you hadn’t drunk all the whiskey,” Jake said with a smile.

 

*****************************************

**Chapter 37** \- _Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future._

 

It was just the three of them there now, surrounded by that uncomfortable silence which often accompanies difficult situations. Not ten minutes earlier when Dean had walked through the front door the atmosphere had been very different; one minute it was all smiles and hellos and the next with clockwork precision that amazed even him, Jake whisked Bobby away for a tour of the firehouse, and Lisa and Sarah, who had dropped by for breakfast, headed out to shop; although, Dean was certain that was code for _we’ll leave you boys to it. Just call us when you’re done._ So before he could blink he found himself alone with his Dad and brother, with no choice but to have _the talk._

Dean was already nervous about the situation, especially after his insight the night before into how much his departure had affected Jake. He had always seen Jake as unflappable but as he discovered, his disappearance had deeply hurt his friend. So Dean was under no illusions about how much it must have upset his family. 

However, despite wanting to clear the air about the way he left, Dean didn’t want to start _the talk_ and so like his Dad and Sam he waited for someone else to begin. The problem was no-one wanted to be the first to speak and potentially open up old wounds, so they ended up sitting around the table waiting for someone to say something. 

Finally, as if they couldn’t stand the silence a minute longer, they all spoke at once but before a round of _you first. No you first_ began Dean stepped in and said, “Fine I’ll start. First up I just want to say I’m sorry…”

“ _You’re_ sorry?” John was surprised by Dean’s apology. “What are you sorry for? Son you have _nothing_ to be sorry for! _Nothing!_ ”

His Dad was right. The demon had screwed him both literally and figuratively and that wasn’t something that Dean could easily push aside or bury at the bottom of a bottle of _Help Me Forget._ So yes, he had every right to find a solution to his problems his way and if that meant running away, then so be it. The problem was, that back then, he knew that his family had been doing the best they could to ease his pain and pull him out of the emotional black hole that he was stuck in. Yet despite their best intentions and persistent efforts he just up and left without a backwards glance. So if he hadn’t been interrupted a minute ago his family would have realized that his apology was not about leaving but rather about the _way_ he left. Whether in the grand scheme of things he owed them an apology for that was irrelevant, because with the benefit of hindsight he believed that they deserved more than what they got when he walked out on them.

“Maybe so but the way I left…”

“Dean we get it,” Sam said. “You had to get away. We understand…”

“You do?” Dean was relieved by the response. He’d expected arguing, not acceptance. 

“I never meant to hurt you. Back then I was a wreck.” 

“Come on kiddo don’t beat yourself up over this. After what happened to you…the cabin, the warehouse; just seeing me every day would have made forgetting about things harder. I’m surprised you lasted at home as long as you did; so I get why you left.”

“Well just so you know I had spoken to Doc Jessop about leaving…” He paused, knowing that was a pivotal reveal and one that normally would have sent his Dad into a tirade about the dangers of talking to someone who wasn’t family.

“Found that out when I finally caught up with the good Doc,” John stated. “He explained that going away had been on your mind.”

“So you talked to him?” 

John nodded.

“You actually talked? Not the John Winchester thrust against the wall and threatened within an inch of your life type of talk…a real talk?”

John nodded again.

“…and you were okay with everything?”

“Son I was worried about you but the Doc and I discussed it and I left his office knowing that everything had been put in place to ensure you still received ongoing medical assistance and I was happy about that. So your brother is right, we understand; you needed a clean break. Naturally that first night when Sam, Jake and I realized that you were missing we were very concerned. We didn’t know whether demons had taken you, or you’d had an accident or…”

“Been buried in a rose garden,” Dean cheekily added.

John frowned in confusion. “Ah, no can’t say that one crossed my mind. We searched everywhere for you but then Jake found the card and at least then we knew _you’d_ made the decision to leave, not someone or something had taken you. Anyway, I had to wait until the Monday to talk to Jessop as he’d been away that weekend…”

“Oh yeah I forgot he was heading off to a conference that weekend.”

“It wasn’t a problem. We had the card and when I did talk to Jessop, as I said, he cleared up a few things for me. We were worried but all of us knew that you were the only one who could sort out your life. So believe us when we say we understood why you left and we respected your choices.”

“I’m happy to hear you understand because…” Dean stopped talking, sat back and looked from his Dad to his brother and back again while a small nagging voice in his head said _Listen with your eyes._

That morning on the drive over to his Dad’s place Dean had mentioned to Jake how much he hated D and M’s and would be relieved once _the talk_ was over. 

Jake had replied with a cryptic _listen with your eyes._

“Yes Mom.” he had flippantly replied. 

“What are you five or something? Grow up. I’m telling you Dean don’t believe everything you hear.”

He had pushed aside the strange advice with an “I know what I’m doing” response and they continued their journey in silence.

However, now as he sat there listening to his family casually downplay their fears from that point in time, he finally understood what Jake was getting at. The reality was they were lying. No matter how much they tried to convince him otherwise, he was sure that they were not fine with how things had played out a year ago. He only had to look at them to see the truth. John’s jaw was rigid and if Dean didn’t know better he would swear his Dad was grinding his teeth, a sure sign that he wanted this over and done with before he said something he would regret. And Sam? Well he avoided Dean’s gaze which meant he was nervous about the situation. 

“Son? You were saying?” 

Something was definitely not right. Dean just knew it. “Why are you lying to me?” 

“What?” Sam spluttered. “Dean? Dude we told you…”

“Shut up Sam! You know what? I am sorry I came here. I wanted to clean the slate; to tell you that I’m sorry about the way I disappeared that night, but since you can’t be honest with me why should I bother explaining anything to you two?” 

John learned forward, hands clasped together resting on the table and said in a tone full of measured sincerity, “Son I’m not sure what you think is going on here, but trust me when I say we _are_ happy to see you and we _are_ okay with you living your own life. We _do_ understand.”

Dean shook his head as if berating himself for being so naïve in hoping this would be an easy talk. “Well if you understand, then how about you drop the _awww shucks Dean we accept your life choices_ routine. That’s never been your style Dad. Right up until I left you had salt and sigils on and in everything Sam and I used, from the car to the can. I get that you were just trying to protect us, but underlying that was the thought that we were incapable of looking out for ourselves. So no, I don’t think you _were_ happy with me leaving and I find it hard to believe that you didn’t try to track me down and find out what the hell I thought I was doing.”

John’s gaze was steady and his tone even, “What’s your point son?”

“Since I woke up in the hospital you two have spent every minute trying to get me to talk about everything; to off load my pent up feelings, to get it off my chest and all that other touchy feely bullshit and now I’m offering it to you on a platter and suddenly you’re not interested? Give me a break!”

Sam gave a head nod to John as if to say _you tell him_ but nothing was said.

Dean sighed in frustration. “Come on guys the gig is up. Let me tell you what I think…I think recently you’ve come to accept that I’m not coming back to live in Missouri; but honestly I believe the feelings from when I left cut deep. I’d be damn surprised if you didn’t have any questions. So if I’m prepared to sit here and openly talk about why I left, then can’t you at least have the decency to do the same for me and say what you’ve wanted to say for over a year?”

“But Dean…” Sam whined.

“Oh don’t _but Dean_ me Sam. You couldn’t lie to save your soul. You don’t have a poker face and right now what you’re saying is not what you’re feeling. God knows how you’re going to be a lawyer, you’re way too honest. As for you Dad, well you’re speaking about coming to terms with a situation that I blindsided you with. I _know_ you and I know you would have been pissed. You don’t want to talk about it fine; neither do I, but surely it’s time to close the book on this one. We spent over twenty years hunting the thing that killed Mom. Well we found it and destroyed it and regardless of how messy the finale turned out, don’t you think we owe it to ourselves, and to Mom, to wrap up that part of our lives and move on?” 

John braced his hands on his knees and for the briefest of moments appeared as if he would argue the point but instead sat back and said. “Okay. Well, if we’re going to see this through, then let’s get comfortable. I’ll get the beers while you two settle yourselves in the living room.”

The boys agreed, Sam claiming a comfy chair while Dean encouraged his sleeping dog to relinquish his spot on the sofa so that he could stretch out.

Jack growled and reluctantly moved to the floor next to Dean’s feet.

“You know there’s some truth in the saying _let sleeping dogs lie,_ John commented as he handed out the beers. 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder if his Dad was hinting at more than just disturbing the mini hell hound now grumbling at his feet.

“So…why the _nothing bothered us_ routine?” Dean asked staving off any chance of the conversation heading in a different direction. 

Sam took the lead and explained. “Well it’s like this…you turn up out of the blue and the last thing we wanted to do was to make a scene about the way you left, you get upset and walk out of our lives again, this time forever. We figured if we told you how we feel now, then it wasn’t exactly lying.”

Dean was both hurt and surprised. “I would _never_ cut you out of my life. Why would you even think I’d do that?”

John replied flatly, “Really? You don’t see the pattern? Think about it. You’re a Winchester. It’s a family tradition to disappear. I’ve done it many times starting with when I took you two on the road after your mother died; Sam did it when he went to college.”

Some subjects never die and sadly Sam at college was one of them. “Well you’re the one that told me to leave and never come back!” Sam pointed out tersely.

“Sam this isn’t about you,” John reminded his youngest son, who now seemed hell bent on hijacking the discussion. “For goodness sake let it go; it’s in the past. Today is about trying to move forward.”

“Then you let _this_ go too,” Sam bit back.

“In case you haven’t noticed your brother started this conversation. When he wants it finished that’s when I will let it go.”

“Hey, don’t throw this back on me. We agreed to talk, but it was you guys who decided to play games and as for your time at college Sam; you had that fight with Dad but yet I was cut loose too. At least I wrote to you guys while I was away, that’s more than you did in four years little brother.”

John glared at Sam daring him to open his mouth.

Wisely Sam held his tongue but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper.

Ignoring Sam sulking in a corner John went on, “but that’s part of the problem Dean. While you did write you only told us what you _had_ done, where you had been not what you planned to do or where you were going. By the time we received a card you’d already moved on. It was like you deliberately kept us at a distance so we couldn’t track you down.”

“I told you I was in Maine.” He snapped back. 

The mood in the room became tense as the talk escalated into an argument. 

John was visibly frustrated and his voice took on an edge. “I know you did and I wanted to go there but you’d said in that first card that you needed space to clear your head. We didn’t know how long that would take. Hell, we didn’t even know if you’d ever get to that point. So the last thing any of us wanted to do was set back your recovery further by turning up on your doorstep uninvited, only to discover that we were the last people you wanted to see because you were still trying to get through the day one whisky bottle at a time.”

“Dad!” Sam warned. Obviously this was not how he thought the talk would go.

“What Sam? Dean wanted the truth, well here it is. You scared me to death Dean. I had watched you cheat death more times than I care to remember in that hospital. I would have sold my soul to save you if it meant you could have a long and happy life. When you clawed yourself back to from the edge and was discharged from hospital, I thought the world was at you finger tips; that you would get on top of everything; that you could be or do anything. Except it wasn’t that easy and I was an idiot for thinking it would be. Day after day, I watched you fall apart in front of me and I couldn’t help you. I tried, but how can your torturer be your comforter. The real kicker came after that last talk the three of us had and for the first time in a long while I thought we’d made real progress; yet not twenty-four hours later you were gone. When I discovered that you had left of your own accord, then yes I was angry but not at you, at _me_. I’d failed you again. Somehow I kept getting it wrong and then you were gone so I had no chance of fixing things between us. So I took out my anger on Jake, Jessop and anyone else who told me that you were going to be fine; because the Dean I knew was far from fine. Don’t you get it? I’m your Dad; I will _never_ stop caring for you even if you don’t want me too but it’s damn hard to be on the outside looking in and not being able to help when I know you need it.”

“I could have disappeared without a trace but I chose to let you into my life by keeping you informed of what I was doing.”

“And I appreciate it son.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“Look at it from our side, for instance you constantly wrote that your health was lousy and all we wanted was for you to come home so we could help share the load a bit; but of course we had no way of telling you because we didn’t know how to contact you. Then we hear that you had decided to head on up to the frozen armpit of the north to recuperate. Speaking for myself that’s when the bottom dropped out of my world. All I could think of was that one day soon I would find out that you’d died in some rat infested motel, body half devoured by Cujo here, because you were to too proud to call home and ask for help.”

Dean winced under the weight of his Dad’s onslaught.

“I get that you want your own life. You’re a grown man that makes sense, but please don’t leave us out of it; and if you don’t want me part of it then at least talk to Sam occasionally. God knows you were pissed when he ignored you while he was at college. Don’t treat him the same now. ”

“It wasn’t a conscious thing okay,” Dean snapped back. “I just needed space. What’s wrong with that?”

“Don’t arc up at me son. You wanted to know why the ruse, well there it is. Whether you like it or not that’s how I felt. Sam here though, seemed to have a better perspective on the situation”

Sam shrugged, “maybe I did cope better than Dad overall, but you leaving the way you did…it hurt.” Sam wasn’t about to let Dean off the hook, especially after his comments about Sam’s time at college. “Like you told me when you first came and asked me to help you find Dad, you said I couldn’t stand alone because I’m a Winchester. That’s the bond we share; our greatest strength is that we look out for each other. So yes, like Dad, I thought we’d made a breakthrough the night before for you left. I knew it would take time but I really thought the worst was over; that as a family we could survive this, but then you just up and disappeared and I apparently wasn’t allowed to turn up unannounced in your apartment like you did in mine.”

“Now you’re complaining that I asked you to help me find Dad?”

“I left college to help you find Dad,” Sam reminded his brother.

“No you didn’t. You gave me a weekend and an ultimatum that you had to be back in time for your job interview on the Monday. Yes I wanted you to help me, but after what happened to Jess you made the decision to leave college. I didn’t push you. Your girl was dead, you’re apartment scorched and you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what had done it all. So you left for revenge little brother, the very thing that sent Dad speeding down the road twenty years ago. Even if I hadn’t been there, you would have gone after that thing. That’s the problem you and Dad don’t want justice you want revenge. You yourself said that’s the only thing this family ever cared about, but killing the demon shouldn’t have come at such a price. Look what happened, look where revenge took us, look at us now; here we are after everything we’ve been through and we’re still arguing the same old stuff. I didn’t want revenge I wanted justice but not at any price. All I ever wanted was for us to be a family again; but having a house doesn’t make us family, it’s how we see each other that matters and obviously that hasn’t changed.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who obviously doesn’t want his family in his life. You deliberately tried to throw us off coming after you,” John pointed out. 

“No I didn’t!” 

“Well let’s see. First you stayed here as if it was a motel; it was somewhere to lay your head while you sorted out your next move. You never saw the potential of making this place your home; never embraced what you had. Stupidly I was so wrapped up in playing happy families that I failed to notice one of my brood wasn’t nesting. It wasn’t until you left that I looked at your room and I realized how much you had been marking time, waiting for the chance to leave. Secondly, if you really wanted us in your life then why tell Jessop that we weren’t to try and find you. He also said he believed that your decision to send that first card to Jake was deliberate, because Jake wouldn’t find it until he came home from work and you would have been long gone by then. That’s pretty calculating Dean. Lastly and I’m guessing here, but I think most of those cards were sent the day you left a town; a case of _having a wonderful time glad you’re not here_ was it? So that made it harder for us to track you, this of course was the point I’m assuming. Am I right?” John challenged.

Dean sat silently.

“Just like I thought! Don’t misunderstand me, I get how messed up your life was back then. You were at breaking point, we could all see it. The sad thing was, your brother and I were so desperate to see you come good that we clung to that last talk we had like a life line. For us it was the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Except when I left you ended up being hit by the train,” Dean pointed out.

John nodded. “Yeah something like that. The thing is, and I have spent many an hour mulling this over, I think you hitting the road was as much about you needing to sort out your life, as it was you being afraid to accept that your dream of a normal life could now be a reality. Timing is everything isn’t it? You see while you were in a coma Sam and I had had plenty of time to get used to the idea of being in one place. We knew the demon was dead and that alone opened a whole new world to us. We were also told that you would need a least a year here in Missouri to recover. So with that in mind, we went out and found day jobs and somewhere to live. Then this place came along and it was a dream come true for all of us, but especially for you. This was a place for you to settle down and get well. We were so happy for you because this…” he waved his arm around the room, “…this, was _your_ life-long dream. We were toasting our luck that you had such a good start for your recovery. The problem was you hadn’t had time to adjust to the changes like we had. One minute you were facing down the thing that killed your Mom and the next you woke up and everything was different. Suddenly there was no family business, you had a horde of people around you who wanted to be friends and you gained a BFF who would go through hell and high water for you; and you had a house and all you had to do was focus on getting well. Except it was too much too quickly wasn’t it? While we thought you were moving forward, albeit slowly, you were actually counting the days until you could escape your alternate reality and get back to what you knew…hunting.” 

“Yes my dream was being a family again but that meant the three of us together on the road hunting. That’s the family business…saving people, hunting things, that’s what we do.”

“It’s what we _did_ Dean. Things change, people change. What’s interesting though is that despite wanting to hunt, you didn’t take it up again until two days ago. If hunting was so important to you then why not do it? You had an arsenal in the trunk, you were on the road and yet you didn’t hunt. Why was that son?”

“You don’t have to be Einstein to figure that one out,” Dean angrily replied. “For starters I was recovering and then I had a puppy to look after; but I planned to hunt once I was on my feet, which is more than I can say for you two. You don’t have an excuse.”

“We don’t need one,” John stated curtly. “I don’t want to hunt the way we used to. Hunting cost me more than I dare to think about and I can’t give everything to it anymore, although if someone asked me help them I would, but I’ll be damned if I hit the road again. However to ease your thoughts on us being out of the game, I’m planning to run my own repair shop and on the side do what Bobby does; be a source of information for hunters, an ammo supplier and a cover if anyone needs it. So I’m not abandoning people I would just prefer to help those who can be out there hunting things. More importantly, I’m almost fifty-five. My joints ache, my speed is slower and I’m tired after half my life on the road. I need to stand still a while and if I can still be a help to those who do hunt then that’s a good thing.” 

“Dad’s idea is great Dean and like I told you last year, I want to be a lawyer helping hunters. So we’re not being self-centered, we’re still helping people but in a different way. We’re playing to our strengths and making sure those who hunt get the best support they can.”

“Okay I get it, but…”

John sighed because clearly his eldest son didn’t get it. “There’s no ‘buts’ Dean. We’re being smart about how we hunt; as Sam said we’re playing to our strengths. That’s what you’re good at too, being sharp on the job. That’s why you’ve survived this long. Many don’t.”

Dean paled a little as memories from the night at the cabin reminded him that he almost didn’t survive that hunt.

“You know what else kiddo? Family is both your greatest strength and your biggest weakness; because when your family is threatened you throw caution to the wind and that bothers me if you’re going back to hunting because maybe you’ve lost your edge. For instance, I get that you came home because you thought I was possessed … _again_ , but that was your first hunt in two years and you turned up on the doorstep with holy water in one hand and a puppy in the other. That’s a pretty gusty, if not stupid, move on your part, to face me down if I had been.”

Dean swallowed convulsively. The thought of what might have happened to him if his Dad had been possessed hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Dean, Dad’s right, that was ballsy man; misguided but awesome just the same. The thing is while Dad and I don’t hunt anymore that doesn’t mean you can’t, it’s just that for us there is more to life than hunting and it’s a good life.” 

“People will die if we’re not out there hunting,” Dean countered, but even to his ears, he sounded less than convincing.

“They died when we were out there,” Sam pointed out. “Yes, we saved a lot, but we lost a lot too.”

“Son we’re still fighting the good fight, we’re just not in the front lines. In other words hunting is a skill now, not a lifestyle.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re a mechanic and Sam’s going to be a lawyer. What do I do? What else do I know besides hunting?”

“Why not start with what you’re doing now…fish.” John stated. “If you don’t like that find something you do like. You can make that choice Dean.” 

Dean seemed overwhelmed by the concept.

“You can’t live in the past Dean. You have to move forward and look at your options. I’ve seen you face the impossible and beat the odds. Yet faced with a new beginning you turned and ran. I know it’s hard to change. Sam and I had to adjust too, but we love our new life now. Give yourself a chance, in fact you already have.”

“What do you mean,” Dean asked.

“You left here to travel and hunt, but you ended up finding normality on your own in Maine; you have a home, a job, even a dog and you hunt fish not things that go bump in the night. From what I can see, your everyday life agrees with you.”

“It’s convenient right now besides I need money to be able to hunt. Ammo isn’t cheap you know that.”

“Why’s that suddenly a problem now? Why not do what you used to do…credit card scam, hustle pool?”

“I…”

“Not so appealing anymore is it?”

Dean didn’t answer but his silence told John all he needed to know.

“I think deep down you really do want to be a family again but you’ve spent so long having a one way conversation, you think you don’t know how to reconnect. Well coming home the other day was a great start and personally I have to say, if I ever needed a sign that you were in control of your life then that was it. What’s more the mere fact we mattered enough for you to drive almost two days non-stop to save us, tells me that despite the lack of communication in recent months you still care for us deeply.”

“Of course I care, you’re my family. That’s why I left in the first place. My decision to leave here was as much about me getting my life in order as it was saving you guys from watching me implode and seeing you being frustrated because you couldn’t help me. I’d caused you enough problems already; I never meant to cause you more. I was just tired of everything and it just seemed easier for everyone concerned if I left rather than to stay and face more of the same crap,” Dean admitted.

“I get that Dean, honestly I do, but it’s not that you wanted to leave that’s the problem, it’s the one sided contact.”

“You’ve done it before yourself Dad. The year you found the demon the only communication with you was coordinates and a phone call saying don’t try to find me. So I didn’t invent the system,” Dean angrily replied. 

“No you perfected it. When I left, I sent you jobs, I told you to stay away but you being stubborn still came after me. Sam here cut us off completely while he was at college and I daresay if we had called he wouldn’t have picked up the phone; but we still swung by to make sure everything seemed normal in his world.”

“You did?” Sam was shocked.

“We did,” John and Dean chorused. 

“What kind of father do you think I am son? We might have argued but I didn’t stop caring. As for you Dean, well on one hand you sent newsy notes about touring coast to coast and on the other we got the message loud and clear that we weren’t to try and find you. The problem was because you wrote to us it gave us just enough hope that one day you might come home. But then we found out that despite being ill and having to stop traveling, instead of coming home you went further away. So the message we took from that was that you really didn’t want us in your life.”

Dean leapt up and began pacing. “Don’t you see I couldn’t come back? That would have been proof that I failed to make it on my own.”

“Dude you were sick. We wouldn’t have judged you for coming back here.”

“It was different for me. When Sam was at college and you were on the road alone neither of you need help and you didn’t need me. You did just fine on your own. I couldn’t stand to be the one who came back home because life was too tough and I needed support to get through it. Don’t you see, being on the road no matter how sick I was meant that I was in control of my situation? Coming home would have proven what you always thought Dad, that I was only good for taking orders not giving them. So I had to make it work and I did!”

“Oh son you’ve done just fine. We never thought you couldn’t make it on your own. I just wish you had talked to me…”

“Why? So you could tell me that I couldn’t go in the first place or worse, if I had asked for help then have you tell me that I’d made my own bed so lie in it. Payback is a bitch and I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.”

John was appalled. He stood in Dean’s path, “Damn it Dean, stop pacing and look at me,” he commanded.

Dean stopped but clearly he was still on edge.

“For a start, you’ve already been on the receiving end of payback, literally. What do you think the demon did to you in the cabin? That was payback son, at its evil and painful worst. You know what that was like, so do you honestly think that I, your non possessed father, would ever treat you as badly as that?”

“No,” Dean tentatively conceded.

“Good glad we got that straight. Now I know my track record as a parent is not great but were all adults here. As an adult you don’t need my approval to do anything _especially_ after what you’ve been through, what I put you through. Don’t you see the old days are gone? We’re not hunting anymore. This isn’t war Dean; this is what peace feels like. I don’t call the shots and maybe I shouldn’t have so much back then either. Son this is your life, not mine. You can make your own choices. You want to travel? Go for it. You want to hunt? Then give it your best shot. You want to catch fish? Be my guest, but whatever your job is do it well. Whatever choices you make are yours but in life my role as a parent stays the same. It doesn’t matter if you’re three or a hundred and three, as long as I live, I will still care about you because you are my son. A year ago if you had come to me and told me that you were thinking of going on the road we might have discussed it and I probably would’ve ranted and raved because that’s what I do and I probably would’ve told you that I thought it was a dumb idea _but_ I wouldn’t have tried to stop you. In fact I would have carried your bags to the car because _you_ thought it was what _you_ needed. As for contacting us and asking for help…I would never turn my back on you boys. I know in the past my hunting choices may have seemed less than stellar but they were made with your best interests at heart. I am your father, I could never turn either of you away _especially_ if you needed help. Even when Sammy and I had that fight over him going to college, when we finally saw each other again I didn’t ignore him; I hugged him. If you had called and asked for help I would have gone up there to Boston and brought you home myself and once you were well again and if you wanted to leave then yes I admit it, I would have been sad to see you go, but I wouldn’t have stood in your way. Don’t you see helping you get your life back was what mattered to me and helping you get on with it is now the priority? All I’m asking for is that you can find a way leave to let Sam and me back into your life.”

“I’m happy to have you in my life but...”

“What’s the problem?” John gently probed.

“I left because I need space and then I was afraid you wouldn’t talk to me because I left. Now I’ve come back I realize I was an idiot because you obviously do care…both of you do but the thing is I don’t know how to be a family without hunting. The only thing we ever bonded over was the hunting. This…the house…us in it yes that’s been a dream of mine but I do not know how to do this…to be here. I’ve been on my own for a year. If I came back I’d have nothing; no job, no money and living at home. I like my independence but I want us to be a family. I just can’t see how to do both”

“Dean you raced home two days ago to exorcise my sorry ass. Doesn’t that tell you something? No matter where you are we obviously matter to you and it works in reverse too. You want to live in Maine, we’ll visit and day or night we’re all only a call away, whether it’s just to say hi or something more. Any of us need help then one or both of us would be there in a heartbeat. No matter what goes down we accept each other warts and all and we forgive each other when we screw up. Nothing is impossible and believe me, distance isn’t a barrier to being a family it’s how we see each other that matters. No matter where we live or what we do, we are and will always be a family, but we’re not a family without you in it.”

John’s words finally seemed to sink in and Dean nodded his understanding.

“Okay,” he half whispered.

“Okay?” John questioned. “We’re really okay?”

“Yeah we’re good.” 

Sam leapt to his feet and hugged Dean tightly. “We’re a family again. Welcome home big brother,” Sam gushed.

“Sam release…can’t breathe.” 

Sam dutifully let go and stepped back smiling happily.

Dean felt drained but for the first time ever he also felt that they had finally closed the book on this period of their lives. He looked at his Dad and realized there was one last that he needed to say.

He took a deep and calming breath, held out his hand and said, “Dad I can forgive you for what happened at the cabin; can you forgive me for leaving?”

An array of emotions crossed John’s face as the words sunk in and the weight of a lifetime of regret seemed to lift from his shoulders as he took Dean’s hand and pulled him into a hug and in a voice broken with tears he replied…

“Of course I can kiddo. Of course I can.”

 

*****************************************

 

**Epilogue** \- _Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending._

 

Dean was heading to the firehouse. This was his last stop before starting the long journey back to Maine. While he was sad to leave everyone behind he had a job to get back to and a life to live and he couldn’t delay any longer.

Thanksgiving had been a full on experience but one he wouldn’t have traded for the world. From trying to exorcise his non-possessed Dad to navigating the emotional minefield of _the talk_ and the sheer joy of being around family and friends and being accepted for who he was and what he was doing did more to heal his damaged psyche than any therapist could have done in a lifetime of treatment. So when he backed out of the drive this time, his Dad and brother had been there to see him off; a stark contrast to the last time he left home.

Now it was time to say goodbye to the one and only true friend he had ever had.

As he pulled up to the curb, he saw Jake out the front of the firehouse rolling up hoses and stacking them in the truck. 

“Ah the mundane life of a fireman,” Dean observed as he wandered over to his friend with Jack in tow. 

“Hey you. All packed? Clean underwear, spare ammo, tin of salt?” Jake asked.

“Very funny.” 

“Seriously are you going to be okay?”

“You mean with the drive or life?”

“Both.”

“I’m good on both accounts so don’t worry. Anyway I have Jack here for company,” though as he spoke the dog growled at him.

Jake winced. “I think he sees you as a potential food source. If you value your life don’t fall asleep before you feed him.”

“I hear you,” Dean agreed. “Seriously though the car is gassed up, I have tapes at my fingertips, plenty of high cholesterol snacks littering the floor and man’s best friend at my side,” he added smiling down at Jack only to discover the dog was now pissing on the Impala tire.”

“Yeah right,” Jake muttered as he watched the dog. “So…don’t be a stranger this time. Call, write, email…communicate and in this new relationship we have, I will reply.”

“Good to hear it and you can come visit too,” Dean reminded his friend.

“Just might do that. Oh and do me and the world a favor stay dressed...” 

It had been a long running joke with them that Dean couldn’t keep his clothes on. “You’re never going to let me live it down are you?”

Jake thought for a minute and then said emphatically, “NO!”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me. I’m your best friend and as your best friend I’m also asking you to be extra careful at work. I’d hate to have just found you again only to then hear that you fell overboard. Give us all a break and maybe look for a nice safe desk job.”

“Don’t’ tell me you watch _Deadliest Catch_ too?” Dean asked.

“Nah that’s your Dad’s thing. I like _Bering Sea Gold_.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You guys do understand that I work out of Maine and not Alaska and I’m on a lobster boat, we don’t catch crabs or dredge for gold?”

“Yeah, but watching these shows helps us understand what it’s like at sea, and its dangerous Dean.”

“Right this is coming from a guy who runs _into_ burning buildings when everyone else is running _out_. Do you ever think of changing careers?”

Jake smiled, “Not in this lifetime buddy; besides I like saving people.”

“My hero.”

“Hey don’t knock it. I wouldn’t have met you if I wasn’t a firefighter.”

“Touché and just for the record, I feed people. So from my perspective the public is satisfied with both of us.”

“I’m sure they are.”

Just then the fire alarm sounded and Jake shrugged sadly as he looked at Dean. “Have to go. Duty calls. So drive carefully and call me when you get home,” he said as he hugged his friend goodbye. 

“Yo! McAllister on board now,” ordered the Chief as the truck began to roll down the drive. 

“Stay in touch,” Jake shouted over his shoulder as he leapt up into the cabin.

“I promise!” Dean yelled back, but he doubted that he was heard over the noise of the siren.

Dean watched the fire truck, lights flashing and siren wailing as it disappeared down the street and for just a second he felt very alone in the world as he stood in the empty driveway; but he shook it off and walked over to his car.

“Time to hit the road Jack,” he called to the dog that was now rolling on the grass and clearly not interested in being cooped up in a car. “Jack, now! Let’s go.”

Jack lazily strolled over to Dean and jumped onto the front seat next to his master.

“Good boy. Time to move on,” Dean murmured as he thrummed the engine and gave one last look at the firehouse before heading to the highway and Maine.

He had been driving for almost two hours when he pulled over at a rest stop to stretch his legs and let Jack wander around. Dean was tired, though he reasoned it had been a busy few days so that was to be expected, but it also meant that the drive north would be long and tedious. Normally he enjoyed road trips but today it seemed like too much hard work. 

“Come on Jack, time to go,” he sighed and this time Jack came without protest and climbed on to the seat next to him and put his head on Dean’s leg. “You tired too?” Dean asked as he patted the dog’s head. 

Jack whimpered sadly.

“I know how you feel buddy,” Dean replied wearily as he sat behind the wheel and just stared out at nothing. 

Eventually he started the engine, “Let’s go home boy,” he said before pulling onto the road again.

**************************************

The fire truck pulled up at the firehouse and Jake, face smudged with soot, jumped down and smiled.

“You forget something?” he asked.

“Yeah the keys to your house,” Dean replied as he casually leaned against the Impala.

Jake rummaged in his jacket for the keys and threw them to Dean. “Anything else I can help you with?” 

“Well now that you mention it I could do with some help packing up my apartment. Can you spare a few days for a road trip?

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll let you know at the end of my shift.”

Dean nodded his approval, “Thanks.”

He was about to climb into the car when Jake asked, “Hey Dean what made you come back?”

Dean shrugged and replied, “I have family here.”

“Yes you do,” Jake smiled broadly. 

Dean climbed into the car and was about to drive off when Jake called out again.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“See you at home?” Jake tentatively asked.

Dean heard the uncertainty in his friend’s voice loud and clear.

“You can count on it.” Dean happily replied.

 

**The End**

 

**ANNEXES:**  
Annex 1 – Story Timeline  
Annex 2 – List of Characters  
Annex 3 – Map and Table of Dean's Journey  
Annex 4 – Dean's Cards and Photographs  
Annex 5 – John’s Journal  
Annex 6 – Chapter Summary Quotes

  
**ANNEX 1**

** Timeline for _The Odds Are..._ **

 

This story is set after the _Supernatural_ Season 1 Finale, Episode 22 _The Devil’s Trap_  


• 22 Apr 1954 - John Winchester born  
• 05 Dec 1954 - Mary Winchester born  
• 11 Dec 1974 - Jake McAllister born  
• 24 Jan 1979 - Dean Winchester born  
• 02 May 1983 - Sam Winchester born  
• 02 Nov 1983 - Mary died at age 28  
• 29 Apr 1984 – Sarah Blake born  
• 02 Nov 2005 - Jessica Moore died at age 21  
• 02 Nov 2006 - Sam killed the Yellow-Eyed Demon  
• 23 Nov 2006 - Dean woke from a coma  
• 26 Nov 2006 - Dean came out of a 3 day post-traumatic amnesic state and lapsed to a child-like fugue for 19 days  
• 21 Dec 2006 - Dean abducted and regained normal consciousness  
• 12 Feb 2007 - Dean discharged from hospital  
• 02 Nov 2007 - Dean left on his road trip  
• 27 Nov 2008 - Dean returned home for Thanksgiving

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**Annex 2**

** LIST OF CHARACTERS **

**  
Winchester Family   
**  
John Winchester  
Dean Winchester  
Sam Winchester  
Mary Winchester (deceased – mentioned)

 **Family Friends**  
Jake McAllister - Firefighter  
Bobby Singer - Hunter  
Sarah Blake - Sam's girlfriend from New Platz, NY  
Jack the dog

**Hospital Staff**  
Dr. Jessop – Dean’s physician  
Nurse Mary O’Brien – Dean’s nurse in Critical Care  
Dr. Talbot - Dean’s neurosurgeon who is mentioned but not seen  
Dr. Angelo Deef – assistant to Dr. Talbot  
Wilson Turnbull – hospital lawyer  
Ron Peterson - head of hospital security  
George - hospital security team member  
Steve - hospital security team member  
Assorted unnamed nurses, technicians and cleaners on ward  
Dr. Lucas - Massachusetts General Hospital (mentioned but not seen)

**Demons and Other Bad Guys**  
Yellow-Eyed Demon (mentioned but not seen)  
The Prince of Fire (Servant of the Yellow-Eyed Demon)  
Second abductor

**Police**  
Frank Jones  
Ted Markenson  
Officer Lisa Warren, IMT Liaison Officer  
Officer Pete Norton, Sexual Assault Forensic Examiner (SAFE)  
Assorted Unnamed Police

**Columbia Fire Department (CFD)**  
Jake McAllister  
Unnamed Chief of Fire Battalion  
Harry – Firefighter

**Paramedics**  
Mike

**Miscellaneous Characters**  
Mrs Iris Sandram - Jake's neighbor  
Homeless people in abandoned factory  
Sue - works at the General Store, Camden Maine  
Marcie - works at the Post Office Camden Maine

 

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**Annex 3**

**Map and Table of Dean's Journey**

[](http://photobucket.com) [ ](http://photobucket.com/)   


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**Annex 4**

**Dean’s Cards and Photographs**   
These are the cards that Dean sent to his family and Jake over a period of 10 months.  


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**Annex 5**

** John's Journal Entries **

[ ](http://photobucket.com)   


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**Annex 6**

**_The Odds Are…_ Chapter Summary Quotes**

**Chapter 1** \- _In the darkest hour the soul is replenished and given strength to continue and endure._ (Quote by Anonymous)

 **Chapter 2** \- _The odds are six to five that the light in the end of the tunnel is the headlight of an oncoming train._ (Quote by Paul Dickson)

**Chapter 3** \- _Perplexity is the beginning of knowledge._ (Quote by Khalil Gibran)

**Chapter 4** \- _The aim of argument, or of discussion, should not be victory, but progress._ (Quote by Joseph Jourbet)

**Chapter 5** \- _We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope._ (Quote by Martin Luther King Jr.)

**Chapter 6** \- _Waking Up Is Hard To Do._ (Song Title and lyric by Neil Sedaka)

**Chapter 7** \- _You can be childlike without being childish._ (Quote by Christopher Meloni)

**Chapter 8** \- _Some things are so unexpected that no one is prepared for them._ (Quote by Leo Rosten)

**Chapter 9** \- _Code 1_ (Police radio codes and emergency service definitions for an emergency.)

**Chapter 10** \- _10-45_ (Police radio codes and emergency service definitions for serious fire related injuries.)

**Chapter 11** \- _If you are going through hell, keep going._ (Quote by Sir Winston Churchill)

**Chapter 12** \- _The difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is how you use them._ (Quote by Anonymous)

**Interlude 1** \- _Guilt is a weight that will crush you whether you deserve it or not._ (Quote from Maureen Johnson from _Girl at Sea_ )

**Chapter 13** \- _There are no facts, only interpretations._ (Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche)

**Interlude 2** \- _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts._ (Quote by Aristotle)

**Chapter 14** \- _A spark neglected makes a mighty fire._ (Quote by Robert Herrick)

**Chapter 15** \- _It’s a fine line between friend and foe._ (Quote by Anonymous)

**Chapter 16** \- _Reality leaves a lot to the imagination._ (Quote by John Lennon)

**Chapter 17** \- _While we are free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions._ (Quote by Stephen R. Covey)

**Interlude 3** \- _Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen._ (Quote by Sir Winston Churchill)

**Chapter 18** \- _Where is the “good” in goodbye?_ (Quote by Anonymous)

**Chapter 19** \- _Waiting is a form of passive persistence._ (Quote by Ogwo David Emenike)

**Chapter 20** \- _There's no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another._ (Quote by E. B. White)

**Chapter 21** \- _Expect the worst, hope for the best and accept whatever you end up with._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Chapter 22** \- _The best way out is always through._ (Quote by Robert Frost)

**Chapter 23** \- _Bravery is not the absence of fear but the forging ahead despite being afraid._ (Quote by Robert Liparulo in his book _House of Dark Shadows_ )

**Chapter 24** \- _It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year._ (Quote by Eddie Pola and George Wyle)

**Chapter 25** \- _Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Interlude 4** \- _Every solution to every problem is simple. It's the distance between the two where the mystery lies._ (Quote by Derek Landy)

**Chapter 26** \- _You don’t drown by falling into water; you drown by staying there._ (Quote by Edwin Louis Cole)

**Chapter 27** \- _It’s easy to feel alone in a crowd but harder to get away from the crowd._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Chapter 28** \- _You can’t find your way out of a maze if you close eyes._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Chapter 29** \- _The enemy within is difficult to recognize and harder to fight._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Chapter 30** \- _The difference between being lost and not been found is purely perspective._ (Quote by C. A. Thomas)

**Chapter 31** \- _Sometimes it's not enough to know what things mean, sometimes you have to know what things don't mean._ ( Quote by Bob Dylan)

**Chapter 32** \- _Having a great time, wish you were here._ (Quote from the lyrics of the song _Wish You Were Here_ by the Kingsmen )

**Chapter 33** \- _Courage is not the absence of despair; it is, rather, the capacity to move ahead in spite of despair._ (Quote by Rollo May)

**Chapter 34** \- _Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect._ (Quote by Margaret Mitchell)

**Chapter 35** \- _Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city._ (Quote by George Burns)

**Chapter 36** \- _You know if you don’t start a conversation there really won’t be one._ (Quote by Carrie Paul Bell)

**Chapter 37** \- _Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future._ (Quote by Paul Boese) 

**Epilogue** \- _Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending._ (Quote by Carl Bard )

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**THE END**


End file.
